All For Fragarach
by S.K.A. Birch
Summary: Like most, Floki has a secret or two of his own and when they are revealed to the crew decisions must be made. A secret the Vikings must use to help them find the mythical sword called, Fragarach. A secret that will turn Rollo's world upside down and keep the crew guessing every step of the way. Rollo/OFC
1. Escocia

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. **

**The following is fiction with the exception of the already well-known Vikings. Dates, towns and some history are purely from my imagination. Please don't get caught up on historical accuracy like I did when I started brainstorming this thing. IT'S FOR FUN. **

**This is my first fanfiction in about a decade and for this story I've included visual aids and acknowledgements in my profile. This first chapter might be a bit on the short side but I wanted to kick start it and get going into the plot and the other NEW characters to come. **

**Thank you for reading. S.K. **

Chapter I – Escocia

The warm taste of copper slid past Lagertha's lips and onto her tongue as she freed her sword from her attacker's rib cage. Through sweat-blurred vision an all too familiar sight found her as she raised her head, wiping the blood from her mouth. Behind them the drums boomed and muttered. What a tale they would have to tell of this day. The smell of salt mixing with the bodies turned her stomach but there was no time for sympathies.

A great arm drew back and then forward with a ripple of mighty muscle, a long spear leaped at Lagertha's chest. Only a spry woman such as Lagertha could have avoided such a thrust. Her instinctive action saved her life. The great blade grazed her ribs as she swayed aside and returned the blow with a flashing thrust that killed the warrior.

Bounding in assault, Floki appeared to sail across the sand as he severed a man's calf with his ax. Kneeling, Floki brought his ax down over and over in small spasms without remorse. If it were not for the spray of sand from behind as a warning, a stream of steel would have made its home firmly in Floki's neck. Rolling free, Floki readied the grip on his axes. The men were now within reach of each other.

"Tricky, tricky, tricky," he said aloud, rising to his full height. Floki in the midst of his sentence suddenly plunged forward with the speed of light, thrusting viciously. A slower man might have died there but the warrior parried and sent his own blade in a silver streak that slit Floki's tunic as the rogue bounded backward. Floki admitted the failure of his trick with a wild laugh and came in with the breath-taking speed and fury of a wolf, his blade making a white fan of steel about him.

_Press on, press on. _Athelstan wouldn't let his mind focus on anything else. His opponent obviously had the advantage of size. Thrust, slash, a swirl of clamor- their naked blades were long gleams of silver in the sunlight. Blood now ran from a cut on Athelstan's cheek and it was as if the sight drove his large attacker further into a fury. Athelstan was forced back before the blood-lusting onslaught but the monk's expression did not alter. A sudden unexpected attack too wild and swift for the eye to follow, a dynamic burst of speed and fury no man could have withstood. Athelstan for the first time that day felt his cold blade push through soft flesh.

The heat was rising, drying the wet grit at the base of Ragnar's neck. The full sun of noon was high, no shadows and no wind; just the overwhelming realization that the militia of Escocia were prepared for the Vikings' incursion. The Vikings' casualties were too great; counting the bodies was like counting the gated sheep waiting for slaughter. Suddenly a horror arose in front of Ragnar.

_This is Garm, the watchdog of hel_. thought Ragnar, the height of this man nearly doubled that of his own. Before he had time to lift his sword one long arm slid under Ragnar's shoulders, the other gripped his hair. The Viking felt his head being forced back irresistibly. He clutched at the other's wrist with both hands but the flesh under his frantic fingers was as hard as wood. Ragnar's mind was reeling; his neck seemed ready to break with a little more pressure. He threw his body backward with one volcanic effort breaking the deathly hold.

_What sort of man is this? _Ragnar thought.From behind, Ragnar saw Erik rise through the air and onto the giant's back. His steely arms seeking and finding a deadly wrestling hold; as they went to the earth together Erik broke the monster's neck. A look of gratitude swept Ragnar's face.

"We can only have the upper hand for so long, brother," Rollo called to Ragnar, almost taking amusement in the dance he and his assailant were tangled in. His long sword had been thrown in the scuffle, though Rollo never minded a little hand-to-hand combat. Rollo pivoted his position dropping his knee to the sand while simultaneously securing the man's arm. Through one fluid reversed motion came a snap followed by a tormented howl. Rollo stood with shoulders thrown back, an old, defiant smile on his face as he brought his blade down on the warrior.

Before Rollo had time to brush off his knee the sound of encroachment drew in from behind. Spinning on toe, he raised his dagger from his side over head in instinctive defense. Their dagger blades crossed with a sharp clash of vicious steel; blue sparks showered. Across those blades hot eyes burned into each other- hard green ones into black volcanic rock. Breath hissed between closed locked teeth, feet scuffed the sand, advancing, retreating. Rollo came on in a relentless surge; he was ever the aggressor in any battle. He thrust like lightning for face and body. This could not last; a knife fight is necessarily short and deadly. The nature of the weapon is to prevent any long drawn play of swordsmanship.

Before the man could throw all his strength into his wrists and his powerfully balanced legs, Rollo reared his strong neck back and with immense speed, smashed his head into his aggressor's. The feel of soft skull crumbling beneath ones own was a guilty pleasure of any Vikings'.

The minutes flew by, the clang and clash of steel did not diminish around them. Ragnar's men were falling and quickly. Lagertha spared one swift, tortured glance over her shoulder; the second fleet of Escocian men could be seen on the ledge in the distance. The sweat and salt ran into her eyes in a sweep of hideous red faces. Those who lay prostrated were horrible to see now, for their skulls were shattered, their faces smashed in and their limbs broken.

The Monk was striving to restrain the warriors arm but his clenching fingers missed and the rock of a fist crashed sickeningly against his bare head; again it fell as a fire-shot mist clouded Athelstan's vision, but his instinctive jerk avoided it though it half numbed his shoulder, ripping the skin so that his blood started in streams.

Maddened, Athelstan lunged fiercely against the firm body of the iron fisted man and one blindly grasping hand closed on the dagger hilt at the warriors girdle – ripped it forth and stabbed blindly and savagely. Close locked the fighters staggered backward, the one stabbing in venomous silence the other striving to tear his arm free so that he might crash home one destroying blow. Hindered blows glanced from Athelstan's head and shoulder ripping the skin and bringing blood in streams, sending red lances of agony across the monk's clouding brain. Blinded, dazed, fighting on instinct alone as a wounded wolf fights, Athelstan's teeth snapped fang- like into the great bull's throat of his foe tearing the flesh horrifyingly and bringing a burst of flooding blood and an agonizing roar from his victim.

"Odin, far wander, grant me wisdom, courage and victory," Rollo began to pray aloud, spotting the approaching fleet on the hill.

"Friend Thor, grant me your strength and both be with us," Ragnar finished, stepping backward closer to his brother as they watched the last of the Escocian men fall under the hand of their priest.

"Your order's Ragnar?" Erik called. Watching the armada advance ever closer down the hill, Ragnar said nothing. In making an attack there can be no hesitancy or indecision, any uncertainty will result in greater casualties, loss of victory and general discouragement of the whole force.

"Ragnar we can not even progress up the beach," Floki murmured just loud enough for Ragnar to hear. "Your men and women are falling."

"We were not prepared for this, my love." Lagertha said breathless.

Ragnar surveyed the fallen at his feet, the fallen from both sides. Death in combat is not the end of a fight but its peak and since combat is part, and at times the sum total of life, death-which is the peak of combat, is not the destruction of life but its fullest most powerful expression. It will be readily understood that warriors who have once begun to retreat, lose heart, discipline slackens and it is hard to say when or how they will stop or what the conditions will be when they do. The soldier who has been forced to retreat through no fault of his own loses confidence in the higher command because he has withdrawn already from several positions in succession. Retreating would mean disgrace… but these people were his family.

"Honorable withdrawals are no way inferior to brave charges, as having less fortune, more of discipline and as much valor." Erik reassured his friend.

"Retreat!" Rollo laughed. "We have only just arrived."

"To retract is not a sign of weakness... It is a sign that a man knows the limits of his capabilities and the most probable outcome of the future. One who retreats to fight another day isn't running away, but looking for another road towards the same destination," Lagertha said, the ocean lapping at her feet.

Ragnar lowered his sword in silence and viewed his remaining company. What a wretched, miserable sight. His wife's eyes were pleading with him to save their people from this slaughter. Still he said nothing.

"Ragnar," Athelstan said, almost in a whisper. The Viking for the first time took a look at his priest. Blood was streaked along his chin and jaw, his shirt torn to tatters.

_What has become of this? What has desperation turned my people into_? Ragnar was almost in wonderment. The Escocian cavalry was drawing nearer though none of the Vikings moved.

"Firmness in retreat is more honorable than passion in victory. Courage alone is needed to attack a position, while it requires heroism to make a difficult retreat before a victorious enemy. A fine retreat should meet with a reward equal to that given for a great victory. Ours shall come from Odin himself." Though the words came boldly from Ragnar's lips, he was the only one amongst them who did not believe them. Another long moment swept over the company, the sound of hooves on sand could now be heard as the Escocians drew nearer. Ragnar turned to his brother, then back to his people.

"To the boats."

**Wow, now wasn't that fun! Love me some action. At this point in my mind Athelstan has broken miles back and who wouldn't be desperate if their life was being threatened. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks again. **


	2. As the Raven Flies

**Thank you to those who read my first chapter! I'm excited to be writing again- heres another one to keep you going. **

**I do not own any of the characters in this chapter except for the Chieftesses - S.K.A. Birch**

Chapter II "As The Raven Flies"

_Retreat._ The word was still stinging the back of Ragnar's throat, slithering all over his tongue. For the sake of his people he had no other choice. Ragnar was taught there is a beginning to any great matter but the continuing unto the end, until it is thoroughly completed yields the true glory. _This is not finished. _Was the wheel of thought Ragnar couldn't stop from spinning through his mind. Though the silence of the ship was unlike any other the noise inside Ragnar's head was deafening.

The company of Ragnar Lothbrok watched their friend rooted and unmoving throughout the night, afraid to move themselves. Exhaustion, disappointment and unrest blanketed the entire ship; everyone prayed for the arrival of a new day. Eventually, Ragnar's gaze slowly slid to Athelstan who was sitting across from him. The poor monk was compulsively wiping his face with the back of his hand, over and over. Ragnar could see his lips and chin red and agitated even through the blackness but he said nothing. Rollo approached taking rest next to Ragnar, his young brother's face looked almost twisted in the darkness. The hollow under is eyes seemed to swallow his blue pools all together.

Shoulders touching, they sat together letting the silence fester ever longer. Rollo leaned forward and crossed his strong arms over his knees burying his face in the fur of his coat. Although it was the middle of the summer months, Rollo was too consumed to remove the weighty layer. Releasing a heavy sigh he turned his face to Ragnar without lifting it.

"Brother?" Rollo whispered curiously. Ragnar neither moved nor uttered a reply. The men shared the space in the darkness, letting it envelop them; hiding any air of disappointment that creased their faces.

Athelstan lifted his eyes to meet Ragnar's but neither spoke. Ragnar dropped his head from one side to the other, letting an audible crack resound through the stillness. Rollo rested, silently surveying the men and women before him, not one left without a mark to remind them of this failed journey. The surprising sensation of heart ach crept its way into Rollo's chest before he smothered it back down.

No one shifted for hours. A few slept, others prayed for the swift deliverance of land but most sat in silent rage, not a sound came from the company on that clear night. The occasional rustle of Floki at the helm and the gentle knocking of the waves at the bow was all that resonated through the ship.

Morning seemed to take an eternity until the first hints of black dissolved into the morning's purple; Ragnar still in a wash of silence. There was a faint silver hint of the new day and the comforting promise of the glow from the dawning sun; they had made it through that black and bitter night.

Lagertha maneuvered her way next to her husband and across from Athelstan, lacing her fingers together she let her back hunch and head droop. Savoring the few moments of a stretch before she said, "Thor has not abandoned you for saving your people, Ragnar Lothbrok. Your strength and love for your men is too great to be ignored."

Ragnar looked into his wife's eyes as if to say, _what would you have me do then? _Lagertha sighed and said nothing.

Athelstan ran his aching fingers through his sandy hair while arching his back. "Maybe its time to start asking for a sign," he muttered almost sarcastically.

"What would you know of signs, priest?" Rollo scoffed, his voice as gritty as the shore. Athelstan didn't humor Rollo with a reply, he simply slouched back into the comfortable position he had had. Rollo could feel his legs aching from under his elbows, this journey was taking longer than most and his patience was wearing thin. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes and let his head fall back between his shoulder blades for a moment. He could see Floki behind him on his stoop leaning on the steerboard.

"Come my love," Lagertha said, "let us get you something to eat." She stood waiting for Ragnar to follow suit. "All the men have eaten." She held out her hand for his.

Ragnar stretched his neck backward as well, sharing the view of the early morning sky with Rollo. A set of dark winged fowls crossed over the path of the ship, starboard to port; it was a pair of large ravens, silent and bold.

"Did you see what I have just seen?" Rollo asked unmoving.

Ragnar dropped his head further back to see his mate. "Huginn and Munnin are flying north, are they not, Floki?" he asked rhetorically. The initial break of silence from their leader caught everyone's attention.

"I believe you are right, my friend," Floki replied slightly startled at Ragnar's break in stillness, only seeing the ravens after they had passed to his left.

"And what is to the north?" Ragnar asked though he already knew. Everyone knew.

"That would be Kaupang," Rollo answered, watching the birds disappear, "then Oslo." Ragnar lifted his head at this and looked at Rollo. "Wait, wait I am not so sure about that, Brother." Ragnar raised his eyebrows with a smile. "You have heard the talk, Ragnar. They are mad tucked up there in the north," he continued.

"Have you ever met them?" Asked Ragnar.

"No," Rollo's voice lifted.

"Well how do you know then?" The men rose from their seats and made their way up to Floki's perch at the helm. "My dear Floki, how long would it take to travel to Oslo? An extra day's journey or so?" Ragnar asked wrapping his arm around Floki's neck.

"For once I believe I am with Rollo, my friend," Floki fidgeted, "your men just want to return home to their women. The town is out of the way and the Chieftesses are not well know for their hospitality."

"Has my priest not reminded us of our great father and the power of his wisdom? He has shown us the way! As plain as the blue of the sky!" He held up his arm toward where the birds were first seen.

"Why Oslo, they could have been flying anywhere up north," Floki said

"Just a feeling," Ragnar muttered with a grin. "All great events hang by a single thread, the clever man takes advantage of everything and neglects nothing that may give him some added opportunity, the less clever man by ignoring one thing sometimes misses everything."

"Ragnar, the chances of the Chieftesses offering men or assistance without security or something in return are slight," Floki said closer to Ragnar's ear, "your people are tired, do not let your pride delay their rest. "

Ragnar's arm slid from his friend's shoulder. A smarter man would usually be more vigilant with his choice of words towards Ragnar Lothbrok. However, Floki was possibly too smart for his own good and unquestionably the craziest of them all, therefore never put a filter to his words.

Ragnar took the step down onto the hull were his men and wife were waiting. "Shall we let our company decide for themselves?" he said to them, his foot falling heavily on the wood planks of the ship, step after step. Floki's face twisted as he listened, biting his bottom lip. "Do you not harbor dissatisfaction in your hearts? Anger?" he said more forcefully walking though the middle of the boat. "Rage for your fallen brothers and sisters?" His fists clenched.

No one dared to answer; the memory was too fresh and too painful. Ragnar stopped in the middle of the boat and let his hand wrap around the mast. He circled around to the other side and looked back to Rollo and Floki at the steer board. "The opportunities of battle and riches wait for no man," he said with a half smile, "my offer is for us to sail a day's journey off course to Oslo." Ragnar turned and continued walking to the bow of the ship. "There, we will ask the Chieftesses for aid, for MEN! Whomever they are able to spare. Then we shall return to that wrenched shore and take the plunder we set out to take! Take what women you will and kill those who stand in your path!" The company of the ship began to shift.

"You're starting to sound like a barbarian, Ragnar," joked Svein.

Ragnar grinned stepping closer to Svein. "Savagery is the natural state of mankind, civilization is unnatural," bending down to the seated man, he continued, "it is a impulse of instance and barbarism must always ultimately triumph."

"Go to Oslo. For more men?" Lagertha asked crossing her arms.

"You want your payment, do you not?" he answered his wife, straightening his aching back. "That in which we seek will pay ten fold for each man plus those who help us from Oslo."

"And what of the Chieftesses?" asked Rollo.

"Yes, what of the Chieftesses," Erik laughed within his big booming chest. The new day had brought ease and laughter to the ship, even if only through a humble innuendo.

"I will gladly share my stake with them," Ragnar replied opening his arms wide. Lagertha sighed. "That is if my wife permits it," he continued to joke. The company chuckled and shifted even more in their seats, their pockets burning hotter than their wounds. "What then of your determination? Your will?" Ragnar asked. They waited for him to continue.

"The ultimate test of willpower is the ability to dominate rather than to be dominated. A strong will is the function of a sound conscious," Rollo proclaimed.

Ragnar couldn't help but smile ear to ear, "Ladies and men, I give you my brother, Rollo." Ragnar held out his hands in awe though he wanted to applaud.

"I have never been to Oslo." Rollo smiled which was a rare commodity.

"And the rest of you?" Ragnar looked side to side. "Would you just go home? Or would you take those beautiful beings as a sign from Odin himself? To not give up."

"I shall go," Athelstan said.

"Aye," Erik joined; the rest followed one by one with the exception of Floki in their background.

"What of you, Lagertha?" Rollo asked when she said nothing.

"I will just be happy to bathe," she replied and walked away. Another laugh rippled over the deck. The golden morning swept a new wind into the sails of their ship, pushing them to greater paces. Rollo took a moment to breathe in the dawn before he made his way to the bow of the ship to stand with his brother.

"Why Oslo? Why not Viborg, or Aarhus? At least they are on the way home," Floki twittered as if to no one - for no one answered.

"We are to finally meet the Chieftesses of Oslo," Rollo sighed leaning over the railing. "We have heard much talk over the years, have we not?" Looking out over the sea, his arms resting on the boat's ledge and his chin atop his fist.

"Yes, we certainly have. Things are a bit different there in the north it seems," Ragnar replied, exhilarated though he had not slept in days. His hand landed hard on his brother's back, "What do you think, Rollo?"

He took a moment to savor the unnatural stillness of the morning water, "Well, what is the worst they can do? Say no?"

**As you can already tell in this FF Rollo is a bit more reserved (for now). Don't worry, he will still be an arrogant, hotheaded bloke but he loves his brother. **


	3. Oslo

**I only own the Chieftesses. **

**Thank you readers for joining me!** **I can't promise any set time frame per week that I will have new chapter posted. I have a buffer of 2 stories in my pocket so when I finish newer ones I post the older ones as a kind of my reward system. Happy reading.**

Chapter III- Oslo

The dark purple rise of land was now in sight. With the calm waters and a steady wind pushing them into the cove, Oslo was less than half a day's journey. The ship's company had all slept, including Ragnar and was more than ready to disembark, even if it was onto foreign soil. Ragnar at the helm, couldn't help but smile, the very thought of the riches that awaited them back in Escocia after such a humiliating retreat tickled him. It would be their biggest pay off yet.

Rollo sat peacefully on the floor of the ship with his eyes shut and head against its frame, looking at the red vale of the backs of his eyelids. Next to him, Athelstan had finally calmed his tattered nerves and waited patiently as well. Perhaps he was just too uneasy to fidget with Rollo in such close proximity, any man would be. In contrast, Floki couldn't keep still; he seemed to bounce around the ship, back and forth and around again. He finally took a seat on a stool across from Rollo but continued to squirm, tapping his feet and drumming his fingers on his knees.

"Unless you are going to start singing along with that beat I suggest you stop," Rollo said gruffly without opening his eyes.

"Floki!" Ragnar called, "Come keep yourself busy, take the steerboard."

"Thank you," Floki said taking hold of the helm.

"No." Ragnar clapped his friend on the shoulder, "thank _you_," he replied, grateful for the reprieve from the constant movement.

Drawing nearer to the coast, they could already tell the north was quite different from their home. The shoreline was not sand and small rocks with a sharp incline of wilderness as its backdrop. The coast of Oslo was lined with large rocks that gave way to a soft gradient up into tall pines. Navigating through the small islands would have been perilous for any other boat but with the sail lifted they glided soundlessly without concern. Now relaxed with routing his beloved ship, Floki noticed his fingernail was scraped down to the bed from tracing designs into the steerboard's wooden handle.

"Alright Floki," Rollo called, "bring her in."

Floki looked to his sides, then behind him, then back to Rollo at the front of the ship. "Bring her in? Bring her in where?"

"She will be fine in the shallows, you made her so. Now bring her to dock."

"What dock? Yes, I can get you to the shallows but then you will have quite an interesting time traversing those rocks," Floki protested. Rollo left his position at the front of the boat and walked back to his pilot. "Yes?" Floki asked.

Rollo curled his lips into themselves pushing out his beard. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Take the ship - around that headland - and get her near some sand!" his voice groaned. Floki said nothing in response. A small jetty of smooth rocks crept into view as they rounded the peninsula. The crashing waves would still be an obstacle but at least there were no hazardous rocks to contend with. "Here!" Ragnar called back to Floki. The boat continued to glide, "Floki, anchor her here!" he called again.

"Yes, I'm doing it," Floki finally replied though the boat continued to drift.

"Floki!" Rollo roared a moment later.

"Yes, yes I am doing it!" Floki moaned dropping the anchor.

A sandy path funneled from the beach and thinned up into the wilderness. In an almost single file line the company shuffled down the slender footpath, their joints stiff from the journey.

"Is something the matter, Floki?" Ragnar whispered catching up to his flank. The dense brush slapped his thighs as they walked side by side.

"Nothing is the matter," Floki said his eyes absorbed on the action of his footfall. Ragnar lowered his head in order to see Floki's eyes. He raised his glance to meet Ragnar's. "Not a thing, my friend," Floki reassured with a smile. Casually changing the subject Floki said, "Look," pointing to a wooden sign just before a clearing not sixty yards ahead. As they drew near they could now make out that the symbol on the sign was, **- II -**

"That must be it," Rollo breathed over their shoulders trying to get a better look. The town was like any other Scandinavian village they had seen before with the exception of the immense structure rising from the hill beyond the houses. The building was Norse; there was no doubting that but instead of heavy supports and a single pitched roof this _palace_ was constructed of many levels and teamed with elegant buttresses. As the company drew nearer the magnitude of the hall could be fully absorbed. The beams were not merely stagnant pillars of wood but elegant, sweeping timbers that had been twisted, bent and carved. Each gable was adorned with a decorative wooden carving under each of its peaks.

The town looked as if it was preparing for a festival, there were colored ribbons hanging in the trees and an unseen musician playing a stringed instrument somewhere near by. The doors and windows of each home were left wide open; the same small symbol they had seen on the sign was carved above each doorframe.

As in any village, the arrival of new persons is usually met with curiosity and reluctant wonder. Though in Oslo, the townsfolk wasted no time in making their newcomers feel welcome. Throngs of people with smiling faces greeted the strangers without apprehension. Placing flowered wreaths around their necks, reaching out to touch or hold their hands, giving them glasses of water to drink. Small children tugged at the tails of Rollo's cloak whilst the women placed wildflowers in Lagertha's blond braids and led her by the arm; children zigzagged back and forth across the path in front of them.

"What were you so worried about?" Ragnar asked Floki who was jerking his arms away from the small, clutching hands of the children.

They made their way closer to the citadel, "Where are the rest of the men?" Lagertha asked Ragnar quietly looking about.

"Our men are here!" chirped a young woman. "They do not sail." It was not unusual to see a small town mostly consisting of women because their men were frequently out to sea. However, the town of Oslo was drastically unbalanced, the ratio appeared to be three or four women to each single man.

Upon entering the great hall the over zealous townspeople slowly dissipated back into the streets and the Vikings were left to marvel at the massive room before them. The interior was reminiscent of its façade, vaulted ceilings adorned with carving and beautiful woods. Within moments robed servants approached the waiting visitors, gentle expressions on their faces; a tall, slender woman led the way.

"Guests," she said softly. The company was still in muted astonishment from the greeting they had received that was in direct contrast to what they expected to find.

"I am Ragnar Lothbrok, and this is…."

"We know," the woman interjected.

"We have come to see the Cheifte…" he began.

"Yes, we have drawn baths for you and your people, there is also fresh clothing for you to change into before dinner," she said turning away impatiently. Rollo's brow unfurrowed and his stomach ached at the mention of food.

"How did you know we were coming?" Lagertha asked, her hand still gripping the sword at her side.

The woman continued to glide away from them, back across the room. "One should always be prepared for visitors," she said motioning to her factions with a wave of her slim, pale hand. "Come."

The Vikings were shown to their own separate quarters to wash and prepare themselves for dinner. The tall woman that greeted them upon arrival instructed Ragnar and Rollo to follow her. Through a maze of halls and passages they were led to what seemed like the very rear of the great building or possibly into the side of the hill. Reaching a grand door at the end of a narrow hallway, the woman told them to wait where they were as she disappeared behind it.

"This does not feel right, Ragnar," Rollo whispered. Both men continued to stare at the door for several long moments.

"Do you not trust me?" Ragnar questioned.

"Not at this moment, I do not," Rollo answered just as the large door began to open again. It was their guide gesturing for them to enter. "After you," Rollo insisted.

Within the chamber, it was clear they were no longer within the grand hall. A hallow, domed cavern had been carved into the rock face on the side of the hill, a single skylight shown through the vault painting everything in a shade of blue. In the center of the chilled hollow was a hot spring that was filling the air with a sweet vapor.

Ragnar and Rollo again stood side by side, having never seen anything like what their eyes were taking in at that moment. With the bang of the closing door behind them the men began to see movement from within the spring but dared not move. Rollo's hand shot to the dagger handle at his side. Simultaneously, two figures slowly immerged from the steaming water though through the haze the silhouette of their shapes was all that could be seen.

"Lothbrok," breathed a female's voice from somewhere within the mist sending an echo bouncing around the chamber. The brothers said nothing. Something had unlatched the skylight above, which drew out the steam and slowly exposed the two figures standing at the edge of the pool. Rollo's grip on his sword loosed when he found himself in the company of two, nude female forms - identical female forms. They were slender and petite compared to the average northerner, though sovereigns their bodies were muscular and taut. Through years of hearing talk of the Chieftesses, Freydis and Frigga of Oslo; it was well known the sisters possessed great beauty but no one had ever mentioned that they were identical twins. "You are Lothbroks, are you not?" The same voice asked. The brothers could now see it had come from the sister on left, Freydis.

"Yes," Rollo answered.

The sisters began to take their first steps towards the men, unconcerned with their exposed state. "So few men are born brave," said Freydis.

"Many become so through trainings and force of discipline," Frigga continued as they weaved their way back and forth across each other's paths. As the sisters drew closer, the men could now see that Frigga's skin was marked with intricate black designs more so than her sister's. Mesmerized by these Valkyries that wound ever closer, the brothers kept hold of their tongues.

The sisters were now standing at each of their sides, "Yes, but these men were _born_ with it," Freydis purred into Ragnar's ear as they crisscrossed behind the brothers and back around. Ragnar and Rollo felt as if two snakes were encircling them- two gorgeous, bewitching snakes that were playing with a mouse. Rollo felt himself become excited at the thought. "How else would they be so bold as to come to our home and ask for aid?" Freydis asked as she and her sister walked back to the side of the pool to retrieve their robes. The backs of the sisters were just as beautiful as the fronts, long, dark hair reached down and ended just above their waists.

As they slipped into their robes Rollo quietly let out the breath he had been holding, in turn he received a look from his brother who had become breathless as well. Freydis and Frigga walked back to the men and handed each of them a large dry cloth.

"We shall see you at dinner," Freydis said as more of a command rather than a request. She and her sister made their way to the door behind the brothers.

"Enjoy your baths," Frigga said turning over her shoulder to see the men who were looking right back at them.

The same slam of the door echoed through the cavern leaving the brothers speechless holding their towels. With a sharp inhale it seemed as if Rollo was about to say something but changed his mind and merely looked at the towel in his hands.

"Well Rollo," began Ragnar "would you like to bathe first or shall I?"

**What a first impression! In my mind the grand hall's architecture is something more reminiscent of Rivendell from The Hobbit. Hope you enjoyed our first looks at the Chieftesses. **


	4. Ship Builder

**This one is kind of short but gets to the point, it was actually part of chapter 3 but I felt it needed its own space. I only own the Chieftesses. Thank you to all my readers for your reviews 3**

Chapter IV- Ship Builder

Everyone commenced gathering in the grand hall once more after their baths only to be escorted into an adjoining room. This space was crowded with numerous tables and chairs that encircled a central fire pit which had already been set a blaze. This dining area appeared to have the tallest ceiling of them all, the flames could roar and still not reach the top. Again, each piece of furniture was carved and decorated with meticulous detail.

The men's beards had been scaped and their hair combed, even if it did not look like it by the time dinner began. Lagertha and the few other women were pampered with the finest juniper bath oils and salts containing crushed pearls leaving their skin luminous; their long hair was pulled back into one single braid. Floki had refused all comforts offered to him insisting running his fingers through his hair would do just as well and that bathing wouldn't hide who he was.

"I am still waiting for everything to come crashing down," Athelstan whispered to Lagertha while she smoothed the front of her frock. The women all wore the same attire, a long sleeved white dress with green stitching and a green belt to match while the men wore brown trousers and a white tunic detailed with the same stitching.

"You are not the only one," she replied taking their seats while the other guests remained standing. The hall reverberated with the hum of indistinct chatter and movement; the Vikings', though refreshed, lingered in a quiet suspicion. The tables had already been dressed with smoked fish, nettle soup and barley flatbread to start; nevertheless, no one appeared to be eating.

"What are you looking at?" Rollo grimaced, matching Erik's stare from across the table. Floki and Athelstan's attentions were drawn to Rollo whose hair, though wild and starting to tangle, was the color of chocolate against his crisp white blouse.

"I have never before seen you look so clean," chuckled Erik, "did you enjoy your bath?" By this time the rest of the company had learned of the brothers' introduction to the Chieftesses and were taking great pleasure in teasing - to which Rollo replied with a muted snarl.

"You do look very nice," said Ragnar, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The company's conversations intertwined, rising and falling through several minutes before Athelstan leaned to Floki, "Is that them?" he whispered. Through the swirl of people in matching outfits the speck of emerald was easily spotted from across the room.

Looking over his shoulder to the crown behind him, "None other," he sighed taking another gulp from his chalice. Lagertha, over hearing his response, stretched a little taller in her seat to see these creatures over the crowd. Her reaction prompted the rest of the table to do the same until half the crew was practically standing.

Witnessing the leisurely glide of the sisters through the crowd was like watching a shark swim through a school of fish, patient and reserved. Freydis and Frigga were adorned with the same long sleeved dresses as the rest of the women. However, theirs were the color of dark clover and covered with a reflective twinkle with upon closer examination were individual, shimmering fish scales. Their long hair was pulled back and held tightly with carved stag bone that showed every angle of their faces, which were smeared with black streaks across their eyes and down the bridge of their noses.

"It is about time," Rollo said to his brother only to realize upon returning his attention to the sisters, Frigga's green eyes were practically burrowing into his. Rollo held her gaze fearful that if he broke from it she would turn him to stone. _Did she just hear me? _He was not quiet sure what these two petite women of the north were capable of. Without a blink, Frigga resumed the pace with her sister through the gathering and to the Vikings' tables.

"We are very glad you decided to join us," Frigga hummed. Though they were the same height, up close Frigga's skin appeared more olive than her sister's; almost sun kissed, Freydis's skin was that of a moonstone, milky and translucent. Freydis's angular, thin cheeks were juxtaposed with Frigga's round features. Standing together side by side it was clear the sisters were not as identical as they attempted to appear.

Lifting his cup, Ragnar acknowledged Frigga's welcome before placing it to his lips. At the other end of the table, Floki attempted to dissolve into the wood and through the floor but neither was successful.

"This is quite the surprise," Freydis declared wriggling her hand into Frigga's turning her attention down the table. Floki pretended he didn't hear her but the sound of their eyes digging into the side of his head was loud enough. It wasn't long before they were standing behind him, like two headstones towering above a grave. "Ship builder," Freydis said still clutching her sister's hand. With an inhale as large as he could muster, Floki gulped the remaining half of his chalice and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Upon standing he was practically looking straight down on the two females nevertheless, he felt like the smallest person in the world.

"This truly is a surprise," Frigga grinned turning to her sister.

"One that still does not know the decency in dressing for dinner." Freydis's expression quickly shifted. Floki's lips remained sewn together and his eyes pierced up from beneath his brows watched as the twins turned and sat at the head table. Another long sigh slipped from his lungs before he took his seat, a dozen eyes of his fellow men on him.

"Well I thought that was going to be much worse," he said motioning for a servant to bring him another drink.

The dinner drew to a close, as did Ragnar's patience with the lack of discussion about the nature of their visit. His body ached and the thought of a bed with his wife beside him was just what it might take to change his mind about returning to Escocia. However, before he could finish wiping his mouth Freydis had already looked up from her plate and asked, "How long has it been, ship builder?"

"Not long enough," Floki muttered not looking up from his plate.

"Speak louder."

"The seas, they are rough…" he coughed.

"…traveling all the way from Escocia, miladies." Like any good friend Ragnar took this opportunity to deflect whatever issue was being pressed. "Nevertheless, I come to suspect you already know why we have come." Freydis did not reply seemingly distracted by her drink. "Our efforts were in vain."

"Naturally, judging by the state of your wounded. But I believe - she was talking - to him," Frigga clarified raising her finger to Floki. The remaining chatter from the other guests had shrunk and the room's attention was drawn to Floki when she asked, "Were you wounded as well?"

"I consider my wounds a prize, Chieftess; they were given to me for some worthy, wise purpose and I would not part with them if I could." Still not lifting his sight from his dinner.

"Prize?" Freydis laughed with a hint of sincerity. "Were those prizes received for deeds done for others or for yourself?" her voice fell heavy through the chamber, silencing any lingering prattle. Following the dense moments, Freydis turned her attention back to Ragnar and Rollo; her faced softened. "We believe we know of your troubles. Quite a wealth is said to be in Escocia."

"We have come to ask Oslo men to sail with us to seize this wealth, they, as well as yourselves shall be greatly rewarded." Rollo said quickly before they lost their opportunity all together.

"Your brother speaks very boldly, Ragnar Lothbrok," Frigga said.

"That he does, Chieftess," Ragnar relied looking at Rollo, "but it is just that."

"A brave endeavor for _brave_ men," Freydis sighed turning to her sister. "I will give you men, Ragnar Lothbrok." An inaudible, cumulative sigh of relief escaped each Viking. "However." Only to be snatched away once again. "I believe I have an offer with superior compensation to that of Escocia." Ragnar remained mute. "You are skillful sailors, versed in many new lands. Beyond Escocia is a land they call Irlanda, there a treasure unlike any other is said to be possessed. I want it."

"What is it?" Rollo asked.

"A blade, called Fragarach. It is said to be the Earth's most beautiful weapon. You will take our men to Irlanda and find this sword, upon returning it to me you may either keep what treasure you have found on Irlanda or take the men and return to Escocia." Again, Ragnar's company was ill prepared for such a blow.

"Is said to be?" Athelstan spoke surprising himself with his confidence. "The Fragarach is a legend." He looked to his fellow men. "Fragarach is a sword that is said no one can tell a lie with it at his or her throat. Fragarach translates to 'Answerer'. It was also said to place the wind at the user's command and can cut through any shield or wall delivering a piercing wound from which no man can recover."

Rising from their seats the sisters floated down to the dining floor and soundlessly approached the Viking's table.

"I will give you two days to deliberate and on the third you must give your decision and leave," Freydis said, roughly running her figures through Floki's hair before exiting the hall. Another collective exhale escaped the Vikings' as the faint chatter again commenced within the hall. Lagertha leaned across the table towards Floki, "I must know, what was all that? Did you bed her and leave her?"

"They are my sisters."

**I would love to know what ****_you_**** would do in Floki's position. **


	5. Decisions

**Thank you to all those who reviewed my previous chapters members and guests alike. I want to give all the guests a shout out because I'm not able to send them a direct message giving them all my thanks. Enjoy**

Chapter V – Decisions

A warm bath mixed with hardy food and drink was the best recipe for clouding the minds of men – it was clear no decisions would be made on that night. If not for the exhaustion after countless days of instability the Viking's of Kattegat might not have slept at all. Ordinarily, surrendering into the arms of slumber was an artless task; however, after the mind has been triggered and assaulted over and over in succession, the task is not so simple.

"What will stop them from taking the sword, the riches and our lives once we return?" Lagertha questioned the following morning. "That is what I would do." Sliding her piece over the Tafl board.

"We are simply pawns - a means to an end." Athelstan said moving his opposing piece.

"Two days is not a great deal of time to debate such conclusions," stated Erik, "ultimately, it is Ragnar and Rollo's word."

"You are wasting your time," Floki sing-songed from behind them, "we have already said 'yes' in the Chieftesses' minds." his voice trailed off as he continued playing with his dagger, his legs draped over the arm of the chair.

"This is not what we expected," Rollo stressed leaning over the wooden railing of the veranda. Next to him, Ragnar exhaled loudly through his nose while studying the townspeople below. "Tell them we are leaving. This is a trap, it must be." Rollo's massive hands tightened in frustration around the railing. _None of us wanted to come. Now we are placed in this impossible position where greed is your fuel. _ "This sword might not even exist."

"The Cheiftesses seem certain that it does," Ragnar finally muttered folding his hands, his elbows resting on the railing.

"What of Athelstan's words? It is a myth."

"When have you ever taken his words into consideration, Rollo," Ragnar snipped through a vale of annoyance. Biting back stronger words, Ragnar turned his body square to his brother's, "Odin would not have led us here if not for some greater purpose," he said sternly before walking back inside.

Rollo watched below as preparations for the town's festival were still underway, brushing back the stray hairs from his face he hoped to push away the sensation of the impending headache closing in. The townspeople wandered carelessly through the streets; placing a wreath here and a ribbon there, Rollo struggled to think of what celebration was upon them at that time of the year. His gaze casually fell upon one of the houses at the edge of the property not two hundred yards away. The door cracked open and a small figure swiftly exited and adjusted their hood higher over their head. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, Rollo might have guess there was a black, ribboning tattoo around the figure's wrist and forearm as they raised their cover.

"I do not understand how Floki could be so bold as to come back here!" Freydis cried, throwing her hairbrush across the chamber. Wincing as it hit the wall, Frigga crossed her arms and stared at the object from the other side of the room. "And for his leader to ask for aid?" her voice rose an octave higher.

"I must ask you to calm down, you know when you are upset I take some of it on as well." Frigga said softly, bending down to pick up the hairbrush. "It is exhausting."

Freydis threw her arms across her vanity and began to sob. Since birth Freydis and Frigga have had the mystical bond few other twins share; Frigga has the enormous task with sharing these bonds with someone who feels everything within its heightened state. Melancholy becomes depression, frustration turns to rage and contentment into ecstasy; Freydis's emotions were on a fine thread.

"My beautiful sister," Freydis raised her face from her arms, her voice sweet and soft, "I do not wish to put such things on you but what will we do? What if they do not find Fragarach?"

"I shall join them on their journey," Frigga said placing the brush beside her sister.

"Go with them?" the disgust dripped from her words. "You would leave _me_ to travel with _them?" _Freydis's voice rose again as she lifted herself from her seat. Frigga sank into the chair behind her, as Freydis loomed waiting for a response.

"Would you not like some comfort in knowing you have loyal flesh and blood journeying to find your prize? Watching and studying the men you have sent possibly to their deaths- our brother included?"

Freydis's breathing shuttered, "he is of no concern of mine." Returning to the vanity once more, the chamber was left to hang with the weightiness of the silence as Frigga attempted to steady her heart. Throughout their childhood, Freydis was pleasing and sweet one moment and a terror in an instant. Frigga watched as her sister drew the hairbrush slowly through her locks, the flush in her cheeks was returning to its normal hue. "You may go with them." Frigga did not know whether to say thank you or question her sister's reasoning. "I know you are restless here and often dream of our adventures in the wood," Freydis turned her head over her shoulder to her sister, "your dreams are still penetrable, sister. Do not forget that."

"Freydis, Frigga and Floki." Athelstan queried his friend the next day. "Your mother and father named you Freydis, Frigga and Floki." This stirred a chuckled from the surrounding men though Floki looked less than entertained.

"Ragnar!" he called across the room. "How much would you miss this priest if he were to disappear?" The Viking men and women took to retiring within Ragnar's chambers during the following day. Here it seemed prying ears were kept at bay and deliberation could be well focused. Resting at the same balcony as he had before, Rollo listened to the murmur from within the room still his mind ached for the fresh air. Once again his attention was drawn to the home at the edge of the wood, the smoke from the chimney was all that seemed to stir in the home today. Through one last inhale of Oslonian air Rollo collected himself to return inside until movement caught his eye. Once again the door of the home creaked open and a hooded figure emerged. He watched as the figure drew nearer to the grand hall before he flew back inside.

"What is your rush?" Erik called as Rollo quickly passed through the chamber. Rollo did not respond and continued his way out of the room and down to the foyer. Moments later the heavy door seemed to swing open with ease, Frigga hurried in, almost slamming into Rollo's broad chest as she came through the front door. "And where are you sneaking from?" Rollo asked unwavering.

"Sneaking?" She questioned in return whilst smoothing her long hair, her covering now lowered down onto her shoulders.

"We have not seen much of you, Chieftess." Rollo advanced side stepping Frigga.

"And why should my whereabouts be of any concern to you?" She quipped brushing passed him while unclasping the cloak from her shoulders. Her pace quicken through the hall but Rollo's long strides kept him right on her tail.

"That house, the one with the smoke chimney at the edge of the wood." He followed, "close friend?" he prodded. Frigga froze abruptly; turning on her heels she was looking practically straight up at her pursuer, the top of her head barely parallel with his throat.

"Please do not think for a moment that I have an obligation what so ever to answer any of your foolish questions, brother of Ragnar Lothbrok. But if I were to give you an answer I would assure you –" she was now up on her toes closer to his face. "I am no one to be trifled with," she said softly before returning to her stride, leaving Rollo standing alone and chilled through and through.

The final day had arrived with Oslo's festival preparations completed. All the homes and streets were decorated and colorful villagers mingled under a beautiful summer sun. Ragnar Lothbrok knew all along that his answer for the Chieftesses would be 'yes', that he and his men would be voyaging to the new territory of Irlanda in search of a treasure that might not even exist. Nevertheless, Ragnar gave the Chieftesses a formal presentation of their answer on the third day, only to discover the men of Oslo had already been briefed on the upcoming passage. Several boats were loaded, readied and anchored on the coast with some of the finest weapons, equipment and food.

The front hall was crowded with those who would be journeying to Irlanda, Ragnar and Lagertha took account of all the men and women while finishing last minute preparations. Freydis descended the staircase behind the Vikings, stopping midway to observe her fleet. With a clap of her hands she drew their attention to the stairs before speaking, "_Brave_ travelers." She continued her descent down the steps. "May the Gods be your guides, their counsel and friendship quicken your souls." Reaching the bottom of the stairs Freydis merged into the crowd of Vikings and Oslonian men. "Right roads you shall walk for the sake of their names. Though you should walk in darkness, may you not fear, for they are with you, their help be your staff, their presence comfort you." She was now standing between Ragnar and Rollo before the great door. "They prepare your table in the face of your foes and fill your cup to the brim; their blessings and company you shall enjoy all the days of your lives and beyond. The Aesir and Vanir will be your Gods forever as long as you live."

"Blessed be," echoed the men of Oslo in unison. The hustle of people returned as some of the men and women began gathering up their things.

"Your sister is not a fan of goodbyes?" Ragnar said gathering his things.

"She will be joining us shortly."

"Chieftess," Lagertha said, "upon arriving in Oslo, it appeared your people were preparing for a celebration. What is it for?" Freydis twisted her mouth into something resembling a smile before throwing open the front door of the great hall, there the people of Oslo cheered and threw dried flowers and garlands into the air. The Vikings stood flummoxed taking in the clapping, whistles, music and singing from the town.

"Do they know this thing is a myth?" Athelstan leaned to Floki who had been more reserved than usual. The group began their walk through the town back to the shore where they first docked their vessels. Accompanied by Freydis and the people of Oslo, the day promised to be an auspicious one - clear and calm. Upon loading the remaining supplies on the boats Frigga was eventually seen emerging from the footpath and onto the beach. She had her own rucksack full of belongings and was dressed in leather trousers and a fitted shirt.

"It looks like someone thinks they are coming with us," Ragnar chuckled aloud.

"She is," replied Freydis, "when I said she would be joining us, I meant she would be joining _you_."

"No!" Floki yelled, "No, no, no!" he repeated jumping to the sand from the ships railing. "She is not coming with us." his hands firmly on his hips.

"Oh but she is." Freydis corrected sternly. Floki seemed powerless whenever his older sisters were involved - their word was law.

"Is that your security then, Chieftess?" Ragnar asked with the same scrutinizing expression as Floki - one more life to look after.

"You could say that." Freydis answered. She kissed her sister on the cheek and bid them all farewell from the shore. The ships were off through the quiet cove; Frigga had made a comfortable home at the bow of the ship so everyone could see her lounging upon her things. Her eyes burned up from beneath her shaped brows and a perverted sort of smirk fell across her pink lips.

"You watch her closely." Floki whispered sharply to Ragnar. Both men leaned tensely on the helm. "Because while you are watching her, be sure she has been watching you and has already seen what you will do next."

**What would you do! Take the men to find the sword or get the heck out of there!?**


	6. Feathers

**Greetings everyone! Thank you again for the past reviews. I want to encourage open suggestions and thoughts on my character development throughout the chapters! Enjoy**

Chapter VI - Feathers

It would be 934 nautical miles from Oslo to their target at the northern coast of Irlanda; at twelve knots in flawless conditions it would be a three days journey. Although a half-day was behind them Floki cursed that it had already felt like an eternity. Frigga position had been claimed reclining at the bow of the ship - watching over the men, her wild hair whipped around her head like snakes in the wind.

"I do not trust her," Lagertha whispered to Erik while she tightened the ropes on the port side of the ship, Frigga had not spoken or moved since setting sail that morning. The Chieftess had indeed been watching the men; taking notice of one unfortunate soul in particular whose face would wince with every row of his oar. Frigga rose from her place at the bow and seemed to glide like water over the floorboards of the ship towards the man. He turned his eyes to her after a moment, naturally startled for he hadn't heard her approach. Frigga held his gaze before kneeling beside him and taking his hand - there in his palm was a festering laceration several days old. Without speaking, Frigga's eyes held what the man already knew. The sweat and dirt swirled with the discolored puss seeping from his palm. Viking men were used to salt water blisters and raw calluses; however, an open wound was not to be left unattended. Behind them the company observed quietly. Frigga released his hand and went to her belongings, a few moments later she returned and held out her hand for his. "What is that?" he said gruffly, spotting the small vile she held lurching his hand away. Frigga's grip only tightened, tugging the man's hand back in front of her.

"White sage, it will pull out the infection and help with some of the pain," she answered before applying the solution to his wound. The man tried to twist his head over his shoulder to Ragnar at the helm only to see the same expression on his face that was on everyone else's. "You will need this changed twice a day." White cloth was wrapped around his hand and fastened in a knot. "Do not row with it," she instructed. The man smiled and nodded grateful for her kindness. Upon turning around Frigga found her self nearly colliding with Rollo yet again.

"We need that man to row." He grumbled.

"You have many men to row for you, what is half of one man's strength going to hurt?" Frigga slid passed Rollo and returned to the bow.

"In order for us to retrieve your sister's precious sword we must first reach land. We need _every_ man's strength. Keep rowing, Olev!" Frigga turned back to Rollo, her mouth agape in disbelief.

"Stop rowing," she called, her voice rising, "if that man's hand becomes any worse you will have no choice but to cut it off." She strode toward him.

"I suggested you take a firm hold of that oar, Olev or I will cut that hand off myself," Rollo yelled advancing towards her. "The next time you think of giving an order to one of my men..." Rollo stared down at her.

"_Your _men?" she laughed in his face. "Why not ask your _brother_ whether he would like two days with Olev handicapped or a man with no hand at all that will easily get himself killed in battle," her voice whipped across the ship's deck before Floki's grasp fell upon her shoulders pulling her away from Rollo.

"Govern your sister before I use my own methods," Rollo growled.

"I see you have not changed," Floki scoffed forcefully sitting Frigga next to him at the stern. Gathering her hair over one shoulder revealed the elegant black marks that reached up from beneath the collar of her blouse at the base of her neck. Rollo's glare was still upon her whilst she sat next to her brother. Ragnar approached his brother offering a comforting hand upon his shoulder.

"She must be the most loathsome woman alive," breathed Rollo. Ragnar knew when to speak and when to hold his tongue, for now, the silence he gave to his brother would do more good than a stern word. Rollo knew Olev would be of more use in a few days with his hand healed than without one but he was dammed if he would heed to a woman.

"Expected me to change, did you?" Frigga questioned her little brother. His eyes remained focused on the horizon; dark clouds rolled in the distance and he knew the night would soon be upon them as well. "Do not concern yourself with those clouds, brother, you know as well as I tis but a small rainstorm. Your ship will remain true." Still Floki said nothing. "Did you not enjoy seeing the fruits of your sisters' labors, the town is as it has never been before. No reminisce of the past."

"Stop talking," Floki snipped without looking at her. In the distance, the black sky churned and twisted like the unseen darkness within their shipbuilder's mind.

The heavy drizzle urged the men to raise the ship's cloth coverings, shielding them from the impending deluge. Their rumbling conversations rose and fell with the intensity of the storm around them, eventually they settled in for the rough night. Ragnar and Floki sat facing the bow lost in conversation with Athelstan; across from them, Rollo stared, mesmerized by the silhouette at the stern. Facing the open ocean ahead, Frigga appeared as if she was part of the boat, unwavering though the ship pitched and rocked through the storm. In her dripping hands she gripped long black feathers that were tied to her fingers with string. Rollo watched the rain and wind swirl around this woman without disturbing her. He might have thought the rain missed her altogether if not for the fact she was soaked to the bone. Her long, dark hair was undone and hung at her waist reminding him of their introduction sending a wave of arousal through him. The marks on her skin did not appear real through the darkness, the water rippled over them, tracing the black lines down her shoulders and arms. Rollo tried to pull his attention away from her but found it upon her once more several minutes later. He watched as her eyes fluttered under their lids and the water drip from her lashes until slowly her hands began to open. Releasing the dark feathers into the night, the strings stretched and twisted into the air, dancing and spinning in the wind. Through the blackness the strings were almost invisible giving the allusion this extraordinary woman was manipulating the feathers by magic.

"_It is not the hours of watch-on-watch and it is not the work that I mind so much. Or the long cold miles from my lover's touch, 'though for sure she is far away_," Erik sang the next morning, keeping the rhythm whilst sharpening his sword on the stone in his hand. "_No stranger, I, to the touch of steel nor the honest fear any man can feel, but I long for dust under my heels and a pocket full of pay, so I'll take it from day to day_." Erik's low, soothing bellow was a bittersweet reminder of the hearth they had been away from for so long.

"The Chieftess did not tell you anything else?" Lagertha probed. Ragnar and Athelstan exchanged glances before sitting around the sun board. The dawn was still a wash with grey cover though the sun burned through with an intensity known only to those who have traversed the North Seas.

"A sleeping woman in a blanket of water– this is what she said to me." Ragnar assured. "At the most northern point of this Irlanda is an inlet, from there we are to travel south east into the island.

"How are we supposed to find one woman within an entire island." Rollo asked. Frigga had cleaned and changed the dressing on Olev's hand before she joined the group.

"Do not be a fool," Frigga said, sitting amongst them. "I understand I am not wanted on this voyage but do you not think I could be of some assistance." Her eyebrows raised in query. "A sleeping woman in a blanket of water. There is a peak, possibly a three-day's journey from the inlet, shaped like a woman sleeping on her side." The group continued to listen. "The head is a round knoll, it dips down then gives way to a higher rise shaping the shoulder then lowering into the waist and finally into a soft gradient from her hips to her feet. Around the base of the formation ribbons a river, wrapping her in water the entire way around." Through exchanged looks the men seemed more than relieved with this new information. This woman may truly have something to offer. "Do not be too hard on yourselves." She said patting Rollo's knee before rising from her seat.

Throughout the day and into the evening Ragnar sat with his sun board between his feet guiding Floki through the open ocean. The gray cover above eventually burned off revealing a most beautiful summer sky as they sailed. As night settled in their ships passed between an island and the main land of England, the thought of Escocia turned Ragnar's stomach before he was able to direct his gaze back down to his feet. The sky dissolved into a red dusk as the Viking ships lost sight of the sun they'd been chasing throughout the day. Again that night Frigga stood behind her brother at the helm atop the small step clutching the feathers in her hands. As the purple blanket of night embraced everything Ragnar felt it safe to turn his eyes upward to survey his ship only to notice Frigga's activities at his stern.

"Floki," Ragnar said softly, "I will steer for a little while, go and rest." he urged his friend taking his place at the steerboard. Floki silently agreed and bid his friend a good night before finding a space to sleep. It was several moments before Ragnar looked to Frigga and asked, "Why do you do this?" pointing to her hands. Through her gripping fingers the black feathers still appeared wet even in the darkness, as if they were covered in ink.

"Your sun board helps you see things you normally would not, true?" Frigga's eyes remained closed. "Now please be quiet." More soundless minutes drifted by, a steady wind in the sails.

Ragnar was not satisfied with sitting in stillness, "Is it for navigation?" he asked. Frigga's eyes flitted open as she crossed her hands over her chest.

"Yes, Ragnar Lothbrok, they are my navigation," Frigga huffed, "but not the same as your sun board. There are energies all around us most cannot see – these help to guide me." Frigga stepped closer to him. "You have seen these energies… signs? You must trust what you cannot see, Ragnar Lothbrok. Such as when you see your Odin – he is truly there."

The following morning a haze had fallen over the ship, one so heavy the sun had difficulty piercing it. The sails were lifted for there was no wind to push them, the current rocked against the sides of the ship in a futile effort. The sun stone was of no use through whatever mist had found them and the other boats were nowhere to be seen. Before them, the dense cover seemed to stretch and stretch, for hours the ship felt as if it was sitting still.

"What is that foolish woman doing, Ragnar?" Rollo sneered after watching Frigga with her feathers for several minutes. The feathers laid flat atop her small open hands and her eyes were sealed though both brothers were sure she had heard them.

"Let her be." Ragnar hushed, arms crossed over his chest.

"If you trust her, you will be the fool she takes you for." Floki added.

"What does your wife say of Sigyn, Ragnar?" Rollo continued. "What reason do we have to…"

"It will not be long now," Frigga interjected walking towards them. Her hair was pulled back as it had been the night of their dinner in the grand hall; the salt spray had sent wild waves and curls shooting from root to tip. "Trust what you cannot see, Lothbrok."

The harder the company strained their eyes through the mist the more inept the effort seemed to be. Without a hint of a breeze in the sails nor a current beneath the keel the only thing the ship could do was sit. They moved through the morning mist like phantom ships. Tall, serpentine prows arched gracefully on a bow and stern that once skimmed the waters nearing fifteen knots now seemed to sit motionless as it entered into the fourth day.

Frigga looked up from her seat only to catch Rollo's eyes upon her once again. Their green hue reminded her of autumn grasses after all the crops had been harvested and the pasture begins to fade; this thought brought her into a moment of sadness for him. Neither of them spoke however, Frigga could see the blend of emotion behind this fierce man, rage, intrigue, impatience and lust. Without breaking his stair, Frigga leaned forward resting her elbows on her knees before reaching down into her deep cloak pocket and from it withdrew one of her feathers. Rollo watched as she twisted the quill between her thin fingers, spinning it around and around until he was almost dizzy with the motion. She then slowed her fingers until the spinning ceased all together before leaning back in her seat once more. Just then, Rollo saw the first glimpse of a dark gray shadow through the fog.

_Trees. _ Under a shroud of disbelief Rollo stood for a closer look. "Trees!" he yelled to the others before looking back to Frigga.

"Trust what you cannot see, Lothbrok."

**A/N I'm finding Frigga becoming like a good friend of mine and fellow author, tigmeyers and I think it's hilarious. Hopefully you like her feistiness as well. Remember to check out the new images I put up on my profile for the story. **


	7. Irlanda

Chapter VII- Irlanda

The echo of Rollo's call faded into the lingering fog above while the company gawked in muted attention. The black water slapped steadily against the sides of the ships; sending an unnatural rhythm rippling through each man. The mist hung over the gray trees lining the banks to the left and right but they were trees nonetheless. They had reached the inlet. Vapor rose from the water before them, swirling around the ship's bow as it carved through the early morning. The breeze began tickling the backs of their ears pushing them further into the cove. There was no sound apart from the current on the keel, no birds, no tide crashing and not a word from the company. Behind them, Ragnar spotted the other boats that had been lost in the haze right where they had been before. The morning sun had finally broken through covering everything with a golden tint until finally the fog cleared and was if it never was. The clearest day was now upon them as the company twisted their heads this way and that taking in the new world.

The waters were calm and still, as it neared noon the men took their first steps onto Irlanda soil. The wilderness around them climbed and climbed still rich and green in the summer months. The company disembarked with cautious footing over the new, fertile land before them. The wind rustled through the highest branches on the surrounding trees shaking free the loose foliage that slowly drifted down around them. After pulling their ships into cover the company maneuvered quietly through the open meadow stretching from the shore. Their vigilant steps were paired with a firm grip on their weapons whilst they began covering the hundred yards or so to the tree line. The grass was lush and emitted a sweet aroma that if one was not careful would find themselves resting upon it.

Suddenly, piercing through the silence an agonizing scream erupted from the rear of the company, what looked to be an arrow had penetrated through a man's neck. Before anyone could react an additional shout exploded from Rollo, another arrow had found its way into his left shoulder, without a second thought he pulled the shaft from his skin. Suddenly it was as if dozens of arrows were raining down on them striking several of their men.

"Shields!" Ragnar shouted until everyone's defenses were raised but the arrows persisted. "Trees!" The company quickly moved as one into the concealment of the trees while supporting the wounded. The arrows continued to crash over their shields as they entered the wood urging them to continue deeper into cover. Their feet slipped over the velvety mosses blanketing the forest floor until finally, the clatter of falling arrows ceased. The company pressed on further into the wilderness until they were confident the attack was behind them. Breathless and wounded the group came upon the largest pine they had ever laid eyes on. Rotten through, the tree must have tumbled to the ground many years ago; it would serve as decent shelter for now.

After reassembling it took Ragnar three attempts to total his wounded, his adrenaline prevented him from simply counting to six. After surveying his men, two of his own including Rollo and three men from Oslo had been hit by arrows.

"Floki," Ragnar summoned pushing the hair back off of his face, "take a runner of your choice and hurry south and around the east side of the grassland, be as quick as you can but be quiet. Come back when you find these men, I will give you more instruction then." Nodding in understanding Floki turned to leave with his runner. "Floki," Ragnar called once more, "do not kill any of them," and just like that the ship builder and runner vanished into the trees.

"Let me help." A voice said from behind, Ragnar turned to see Frigga.

"What has your sister led us into?" Rollo barreled toward them; his blood was now seeping through his tunic.

"If she wanted you dead she would have done it herself." Frigga spouted quickly stopping him cold. "Do you believe she would have sent me to my death along with you?"

"Well she did send your brother," Rollo spat towering over her, "her family loyalties do not seem to run very deep."

"Chieftess," Ragnar intervened, "tend to the wounded and do it quietly." He ushered them to the base of the fallen tree where the other five men waited in anguish. Frigga readied what materials she brought with her from the ship; kneeling on the soft sod she unpacked her satchel. Two injured calves, a neck, two thighs and a shoulder were now under Frigga's care. Removing the flax from her bag she gathered the dried twigs that lay at her knees and arranged them. With an angled rock she struck her flint sending a shower of sparks onto the fibers until small embers grew. Drawing a thin blade from her boot Frigga held it to the flames until the tip glowed red while adding more twigs to the fire. She removed the arrow from each man and instructed him to hold pressure to the shallow wound while the blade was heated. She pressed the red steel into the lesion cauterizing it from the inside wafting the familiar smell of pork fat frying into the air. Though painful it was the only way to stop the bleeding before she covered it with a willow bark extract. Her hands worked swiftly and surely until she reached the poor man with the arrow through his neck. He had already bled out profusely and was gasping for air. Frigga was able to helped slow the hemorrhage and gave him something to ease the pain but she knew there was nothing more she could do for him.

"What is his name?" Frigga asked the man beside them she had just tended to.

"Galti."

"Galti, my name is Frigga. I will try to make you as comfortable as possible." His eyes thanked her for her kindness for he was unable to speak; she knew he was silently accepting of his imminent fate. Kissing his cheek, Frigga could only let her eyes offer some kind of apology, trying with all her might not to lose herself within every emotion racing through the man, she gathered her materials.

Around the other side of the tree Rollo scowled with his eyes squeezed tightly, his hand pressed over his wound. Frigga stood observing the giant of a man who seemed so docile resting against a tree trunk. A vision of him as a boy doing the same thing flashed through her mind though in this vision his face was relaxed and serene.

"What are you waiting for, I have no fear of flame nor steel." He grimaced with his eyes still sealed.

"I can already tell from here you have torn muscles in your shoulder from wrenching out the arrow." His eyes flickered open and focused on her. "I can stop the bleeding if that is all you wish but to restore the damaged tissues will require more," Frigga told him still standing. Rollo did not respond, trying to stop the tingling in his left hand. She knelt beside him with her bag in a moment of silence before he lowered his hand from his shoulder and she began. Her fingers felt their way into the tear of his tunic before ripping it all together exposing the bloody mess. Moments passed as she observed the injury then proceeded to fiddle through her bag for materials.

"What are you doing?" He groaned with impatience.

"Stop talking." She ordered applying her solutions and tinctures. Rollo grimaced and bit down on his lip at the sting and stink of the ointments. "That will prevent bleeding without searing it shut, the tissues need to heal if you want use of your arm." He said nothing while he watched the needle between Frigga's fingers pierce his skin and draw a thread through until the wound was closed. Rollo caught the striking smell of cinnamon he could only guess was coming from her hair as she broke the thread with her teeth. "_Or_ we can cut it off before infection takes. You are welcome to ask Olev what his opinions are," she said upon standing. His green eyes shot to hers in a moment of animosity mixed with gratitude.

"Ragnar!" A voice called from behind them. Floki and his runner were approaching through the trees hurriedly until they were standing next to Ragnar and Lagertha. "We have found them."

"Where?" Ragnar asked.

"A mile around the grassland tucked in the pines. Their archers were high in the trees but have now returned to the camp. They do not appear to be soldiers of any kind."

"How many?"

"A little over a dozen."

"They must be very bold to attack such a large group," Lagertha added.

"They will surely be moving again in search of us," Frigga joined. Rollo followed closely behind until the company was all gathered.

"Which means we must act first." Rollo said now at her side.

"My brother is right," sighed Ragnar trying to rub the frustration from his brow. The dusk was upon them and under the cover of tall trees the darkness seemed to close in at a greater rate. "But you will not be going with them, Rollo." Before the eldest Lothbrok could open his mouth his brother was addressing the rest of the company. "Floki, gather who you can- all that are able. Take them with you and encircle this camp, do what you must. We do not need others knowing of our presence."

Silently, the men and women rallied together unprepared for such an early encounter, their supplies were left on the ships. The abled bodied dispersed in small formations into the dense woods until only the wounded, Frigga, Ragnar and Athelstan remained. Frigga's flames were smothered leaving them in the blackness of this new land. She did what she could for the men's wounds in the dark forest finally settling next to Galti, his hand in hers. Across from them she could tell Rollo's eyes were upon them though she couldn't see into them through the darkness. The aging skin on Galti's hand sent waves of heat and energies into Frigga's that eventually cooled and relaxed, every emotion of his swept over her in an instant. As the forest grew blacker Frigga felt Galti's grip on hers loosen and she knew the gods had taken him to Valhalla. She said nothing for a long while until all the vibrations from his touch dissipated and his soul had left his body.

"Ragnar." Nothing. "Ragnar?" Frigga crooned a little louder, tears welling in her eyes. She tried to stifle them back for fear of Rollo seeing her when the sound of swift footfall approached from their right. Their company had returned with promising news. The small group was easily eliminated and the camp was swept clean along with the surrounding area. The men and women, including the wounded, gathered with one another in reserved revelry, providing Frigga the moment she desired to let the tears stream down her face.

The clouds had opened during the night, showering the land in an even greater darkness. Scouts were sent to the ships to retrieve the remaining supplies and further secure and conceal the vessels before the downpour washed them away. Ragnar insisted on immediate movement under the cover of night though his men were exhausted. Their current position so close to the shore was less than discreet. Galti was laid in the earth for fear a fire's smoke rising over the tree line would expose them. The treacherous journey through a soaking forest at night made their initial experience during the day look like child's play; at least they knew they were heading in the right direction. The air was at least warmer than that of Scandinavia and the rain was a minor hindrance compared to their home's freezing rains. The expedition through the night was slow going though most made it through unscathed by the time the company discovered a formation of desolate caves.

"We shall take our rest here until the sun rises," Ragnar instructed. The wounded were helped over the several boulders obstructing the caves entrance until everyone was inside. The rain cascaded down in front of the opening of the cavern concealing them enough they felt safe to light a small fire. The company washed themselves in the rain that collected within the hollow while Frigga managed the injured by the firelight. Their lesions had looked much better with the help of her ointments, which she reapplied to their clean skin.

"Lagertha Lothbrok, would you please tell Rollo I need to see to his shoulder." Frigga asked finishing her last patient. The cavern was quite large with the fire built towards the rear, Rollo stood near the open mouth of its entrance watching the rain and she did not want to shout to him. The shield maiden sat next to them with her eyes closed.

"No," Lagertha replied. Frigga dared not ask a second time curling her lips in to stop herself. With an exasperated sigh Frigga arranged her materials so they would not be mussed before she walked to Rollo.

"It is your turn," she said from behind him. Upon turning around she noticed the red stain on his shoulder appeared larger. Frigga could feel her blood begin to boil when she ordered him to remove his shirt. He obliged revealing his strong, muscular frame that would have enthralled a woman at any other time, unless it was Frigga of Oslo who was staring at his shoulder.

"You have removed your stitches?" Frigga said in disbelief.

"They itched." Frigga was now fighting back the urge to slap him in the mouth, instead she grabbed him by his wrist and forced him to sit by the fire. Before Frigga consulted her materials she proceeded to rip out the remaining sutures left in his skin purposely ignoring Rollo's cringes. She ripped off the stained sleeve of Rollo's tunic and thoroughly saturated it with a foul smelling liquid.

"What is...AHHH," he roared as she forcefully pressed the cloth into his shoulder. "Nióingr!" The shout bounced around the cavern stirring those from their sleep. Rollo pushed her off of him sending her tumbling to the ground.

"If you want to act like a hardened fool do it on someone else's time. I am only trying to help you, Lothbrok," She spat throwing the cloth in his face. "How many others can say they have done that?" His hand wanted to fly into action and land on her but something inside prevented him from doing so. His eyes dropped to the stained rag in his lap before picking it up and silently holding it out to her. With only a bruised ego Frigga knelt beside her patient as she had before and commenced working on his brawny shoulder. While the company drifted back into slumber, Frigga cleaned away the crusted blood as well as the fresh from around the puncture, continually dipping a cloth in the cool cavern's water.

"Here," she said adding more of the sweet smelling fluid to the torn shirtsleeve. "Do this yourself, it will cleanse anything that is there." Handing him the rag he gingerly but firmly placed it to his shoulder holding back what grimace he could in front of this woman. Again the smell of cinnamon found him as she finished her needlework and left him once more while she returned the materials to her bag. Before he could thank her she was to her feet and gone.

Frigga's hand pushed up the back of her neck and up to her head; feeling only jagged reminisces of her once beautiful long hair. Her wrists burned, one unable to move without the other following. The weight around her neck was cold and inconceivable and all she could see was darkness. Suddenly, Rollo was standing with a blade to her throat the fires of the sun burning within his eyes. _This is the end of me..._


	8. Traveling

Chapter VIII- Traveling

"CHIEFTESS!" Rollo yelled yet his lips were not moving; he only pressed the blade more cruelly to her throat. Frigga swung her arms about her in a panic futilely trying to escape his capture. "Chieftess!" The sharp voice came again much closer to her ear, jolting her into consciousness. "We must move, we can not stay here any longer," Athelstan said softly with his hand upon her shoulder. Frigga attempted to focus on his blue eyes but he had quickly stood and joined the rest of the crew waiting by the cave's entrance silhouetted by the early morning mist. Rubbing her neck, Frigga unnervingly kicked off the cover that had twisted around her feet and anxiously gathered her things.

The cool morning air violently struck Frigga's face as she stepped from the dark shelter of the cavern, she reached out blindly through the dawn to the extended palm in front of her. Dizzy with oxygen, Frigga felt gentle fingers wrap over her hand and lead her down from the ledge, looking up her eyes astonishingly met Rollo's as she stepped to the ground. Before the full sense of bewilderment was able to blanket her, Rollo's hand had slipped from hers and she was left standing alone.

The mist was not yet painted with the gold of the morning sun when the company began their movements, though when it did the sound of gulls at the cove would surely find them. With only their senses the Vikings used the mosses growing on the north sides of the trees to aid them in their navigation, as well as the rising sun to the east. The party's demeanor had returned to that before the attack and their pace quickened through the lush wilderness; low chatter hung around them muffled by the dense trees. The effect of Frigga's presence was difficult to ignore, especially on the typically jovial rascal; Floki was now unnervingly reserved and aloof.

"Are you avoiding me?" Frigga asked, startling her brother when she appeared behind him. She laced her fingers behind her back as they strode along next to one another though Floki's pace gradually quickened.

"Do not flatter yourself," he replied. Catching up to his side, Frigga spun on toe and walked backwards in the line of his path, seamlessly gliding over the tricky terrain.

"Never before have you had trouble speaking with me."

"That was long ago." Floki's eyes darted out of line with his sister's. Frigga stopped abruptly before him, blocking his way.

"Brother, give me a chance." Frigga's face was earnest and sincere as she search for Floki's regard, with an impatient raise of his eyebrow he motioned for her to walk beside him. Their silence was teemed with the harmonized rhythm of their footfall that was only disturbed by the sound of the snapping twig between Floki's fingers. Plucking a flower from the thicket, Frigga twisted it between her fingers before putting it behind her brother's ear. "Weight in my belly, trees on my back, nails in my ribs, feet do I lack," she said. "What am I?"

"A ship." Floki answered with a small grin. Frigga spurt with a nostalgic giggle until she noticed her brother's smile had left.

"Tis your turn," she instructed. Floki straightened with a large inhale and stretched his neck from side to side before responding.

"If you touch me, I may be snared. If you break me, I do not stop working. If you lose me, nothing will matter." Floki stepped casually before Frigga as she had before, his arms rested behind his back while he awaited her answer. The small smile slowly drifted from her lips as her mind searched for an answer.

"I do not know that one."

"Think," he urged tilting his head. Her gaze left his and roamed the wilderness around them before a look of discontent slid over her face.

"A heart," she sighed woefully. Floki firmly pressed his lips together, handed the flower from behind his ear back to her and hastily turned to catch up with his company.

Shallow water babbled over rocks and past the bank the Vikings had made camp on that evening. The silver moon slivered through the trees and twisted over the water in the brook illuminating their second night in Irlanda. Fires were forbidden after dark and only lit in daylight to quickly cook any food they managed to forage. The last of the men had their share of the cooked rabbit meat and ate the dandelions and clover Frigga had gathered. Many of the company were nestled out of reach of the moonlight under the cover of an Alder tree in the soft grass lost in hushed conversation. A subtle sense of excitement rippled through the crew at the thought of the countless riches that awaited them.

"What shall each of you do with your treasures?" Erik asked his friends while staring curiously at the green plants in his palm.

"I will buy Gyda the softest wools and most beautiful dyes to make her the finest dresses," Lagertha answered dreamily as she leaned against her husband.

"And for our son, I think the blacksmith will be most happy with what we give him to forge the strongest blades." Ragnar said tickling his wife's ribs.

"I will build my wife a new home with the grandest hearth so she may fatten me with her talents," said Erik.

"And the largest table so we all may enjoy your wife's talents," Floki snickered prompting a playful punch from his friend.

"What of your sister?" Rollo asked firmly chilling the lighthearted moment. "What is in it for her?" The smiles slowly slipped from their lips when Floki hesitantly answered,

"I do not know why she has come." Looking over their shoulders to the bank, Frigga was kneeling in the silver light with her hands gently covering her eyes.

"She has helped us greatly thus far," Athelstan reminded them. "Especially you, Rollo."

"I suggest you stop there, priest." His gaze slowly drifted back to the figure on the bank. The reflections from the water danced over her bare arms and hands, her breath seemed almost non-existent for she remained perfectly still. "What is she doing?" he asked Floki, noticing the blue tint the night made on her long hair.

"Traveling," Floki replied shoveling a dandelion into his mouth.

"What do you mean?" Ragnar asked.

"She is somewhere else," he trailed off, lazily stretching out in the lush grass.

The ringing in Frigga's ears slowly eased in to a piercing silence, eventually the sound of faint crackling rose around her. Louder and louder it grew in her ears until the sound reverberated throughout her body. Lowering her hands from her face, a heat unlike any other flew swiftly into her eyes in a blinding wave. A gust of people rushing past stirred the surrounding flames even higher until they were crawling across the ceilings. The corridor she stood in was now engulfed though a solitary figure remained at the other end; Frigga passed through the hallway towards the being who was now running toward her. Untouched by the inferno Frigga reached out for this person, her brother's face finally penetrated through the hell around them though he did not slow his sprint. As Floki passed through Frigga a spine-chilling shriek erupted over the sound of the surrounding blaze down the hall where Floki had been standing. In an instant, Frigga found herself peering into the small window carved into the door, flaming debris and timbers crisscrossed the room until finally she saw them. Her mother and father were wrapped in each other's arms, trying to protect one another from the fire engulfing the room. Frigga gripped the rungs on the window and screamed while she struggled to rip down the door but no sound escaped her lips. Another crash of falling debris sent the flames roaring through the room, consuming the King and Queen of Oslo. Frigga opened her mouth over and over in violent screams as she wrestled with the unmovable door, dirty tears streaming down her ashen cheeks. Suddenly, a fierce grip over took her and ripped her fingers from the rungs, the force sent her tumbling back into the flames.

"Quiet your infernal screaming or you will give us all away." Rollo ordered. His hands gripped Frigga's bare shoulders practically shaking her into the soft ground. Frigga gasped for fresh air until it hit her lungs like thick nectar. Rollo's green eyes softened on her for a moment before she scrambled to the waters edge to cool her burning throat. She let the water drip from her chin and down her neck as though she had never tasted anything so pure. Coughing, Frigga reclined on the muddy bank attempting to hold back the wave of emotion that was boiling to the surface. As she caught her breath she felt something laid upon her shoulders, before she noticed her brother crouched down beside her. Adjusting the cloak over her with his hand still on her back Floki's eyes searched for hers until he saw them wet with tears. After a moment and without a word he stood there on the bank with an outstretched hand offering to ultimately pull his sister from the muck.

The day's journey plunged the Vikings deeper into the island, nevertheless the wilderness appeared to thin in the miles ahead. Each step Frigga took that morning sent a current of blinding pain up her neck and behind her eyes. She had not seen the faces of her mother and father on the day of their death; her travels had never brought her to that time before. "_Could anyone have saved them?" _swirled over and over through her mind, for the past sixteen years she was always told one thing, was it the truth? She let her eyes travel to Floki who was striding ahead of her, his head hung low and his shoulders were hunched in their usual fashion though Frigga never noticed this peculiar posture before. The gap between them eventually closed though neither spoke, Floki periodically looked to her as if anticipating her dialogue though it never came.

"The past has found you," he said softly finally looking to her "In this world and on your travels."

"Indeed," She sighed.

"Though now you do not wake yourself when you scream." His sister did not answer his solemn statement. After a few moments, he spoke again, "why have you come?"

"To protect you of course." She smiled.

"Now, that I do not believe that for a moment," his words dripped with cynicism causing the smile to disappeared from her lips.

"You do not trust me."

"What reasons have I?" Floki huffed and stepped from his sister's side, again leaving her to walk on her own.

The company was signaled to halt after a little more than a half-day's walk when they came to a clearing, before them lay a small village of ten homes or less. To the right sheer cliffs soared and to the left of the houses a wide river raged. Smoke twisting from stone chimneys and the faint sound of livestock was all that stirred below them. Ragnar signaled for his wife, ship builder, monk and healer to come forward, the remaining company was told to remain hidden and silent.

"We do not need to announce our presence more than we already have, there is no visible way to pass around," Ragnar said to them catching his breath.

"Destroy an entire village so we may simply pass through it?" Athelstan said irritated.

"Not destroy." Lagertha said.

"Just kill all those who live there," Floki added, "and take what supplies we might need."

"We will enter swiftly and silently, the quieter we are able to be the better." Ragnar wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Like a game." Floki smiled twirling his ax. Though shaded by the trees the day had been clear and warm causing everyone's clothes to stick to their skin.

"We should wait for night fall, our best chance will be while they sleep," Frigga joined. An astonished expression fell over the group.

"Will the moon's light not give us away?" Rollo asked stepping beside Frigga their sides nearly touching.

"_Us?" _Frigga looked up to him. "Your shoulder is no where near well enough for use."

"I am sorry my brother." Ragnar placed his hand on Rollo's shoulder. "She is right. The fewer the people the slyer we will be." With a clenched jaw Rollo looked back down at Frigga.

"And what will keep you from getting killed?" he asked in a low growl. Without waiting for an answer Rollo turned to walk away, leaving the accidental sensation of his touch upon her hand as he brushed passed.

The sun had long since disappeared over the trees and was quickly replaced by its cooler, darker counterpart. Although, tonight a bright, red ring encircled the large moon, twisting in the humidity and heat- the blood on the moon told of bad things to come. Rollo had been right; it was brighter than ever and the moon began casting shadows as it climbed higher in the sky.

"Do you know what today is, Ragnar?" Floki whispered excitedly, Ragnar shook his head unknowing. "It is the eve of Lithasblot! Now we will have a sacrifice for the Gods on this festive night."

The small company could not wait any longer in the shadows; Ragnar gave the signal to descend upon the sleepy village. Lagertha had slid through the brush and soundlessly moved through the town, Floki had followed closely behind eagerly taking cover beneath an open window. Lastly, Athelstan, Frigga and Ragnar moved as one through the village and took their positions in the shadows of the houses. From the wooded hillside the rest of the company kept their ears alert for any sound of alarm. In the village each of the five ghosts began clearing houses without concern. Tucked in their beds, the villagers were thanked for serving a higher cause before a blade slid soundlessly across their throats. The last home was awaiting invasion; however, Floki had grown too bold and ever more daring with each household slain. Leaping through the window of the final home, Floki was greeted with a giant fist that could have easily crushed his face. Tumbling to the ground Floki chuckled at the blood running from his nose until he noticed his ax was no longer in his hand and the man before him nearly reached the ceiling. The man had raised the fallen ax over his broad shoulder and quickly stampeded to the fallen ship builder. Before Floki could begin his scramble he suddenly witnessed an arm wrap around the man's neck and a blade rip swiftly through his throat. Showered in a fan of blood, the man practically fell on top of Floki who was backed against the wall. Standing before him, Floki could see his sister's arms dripping with crimson and her delicate hands clutching a dagger. Breathless and silent they stared at each other while the man's life spilled over the floor. _You can_ tr_ust me brother, _Frigga's eyes pleaded as she held out her stained hand to him. Floki wiped the blood from his face, wrapped his hand around hers and for a brief instant he believed what his sister said to be true.

**A/N: Oh boy, I didn't notice how many times Frigga is left standing alone probably thinking 'what the heck just happened?' but I feel like that constantly so I had to add it. **


	9. Marked

**There is a link in my profile for the song Frigga sings in this chapter. Warning fluff and family drama ahead … **

Chapter IX – Marked

Serenity for the Vikings had finally come in the form of a slaughtered Irlandian village; their anxieties thus far were wiped away like the dripping blood from Floki's face. Even if they were unwilling to admit it, each man and woman was glad to stretch out in a proper room though the sheets were stained with red. The discovery of the innocent town had felt serendipitous with the festival of Lithasblot and was now put to good use. Food and comforts were gathered from the homes, fires were built and the mead was poured. Most of the company took turns bathing in the river's inlet before settling around the blaze for an evening of merriment. Blankets and cushions were laid around the fire where each person imagined they were celebrating under the moon that shown back in Scandinavia. Their stomachs were filled with all they could withstand, their heads hummed with the excitement and song that swirled into the night air. The heat of the night discouraged the practice of clothing after the cool river had ridded the appalling smell of sweat and blood from their bodies. For a brief moment they pretended they were not on a strange new island in search of a possibly fictitious sword and countless riches while many of their lovers waited alone each night back home.

Laughter and embers rose through the trees and around the moon that hung overhead while Floki entertained his fellow Vikings with his usual antics. The rascal rounded the campfire acting like a gruesome troll scouring the lands for his next meal while teasing his intoxicated comrades. Floki's cheerful tricks had even Rollo grinning by the time the ship builder fell to the ground in a puffing cloud of laughter.

"Who will entertain us next?" Ragnar demanded, spiritedly clapping. The rumble of hilarity slowly melted until only the crackle of the fire was heard, each man turned to the next searching for a brave soul.

"I will." Frigga said from across the fire's glow, until now no one noticed Frigga shared the same mischievous smile as her younger brother. She stood and walked to the opening in the semi-circle of Vikings, "I have a song my mother used to sing to my father." She twisted the stray hair that hung in front of her face around her finger and tucked it behind her ear before she began. "_I have seen you leave the shore at sunrise, I have felt your oars as they glide. I have poured you honey from the morning sun, heard you call to the other side._" Frigga's gaze fell gently over each man and woman; her voiced pulsed through the night. "_I have carried your voice along the wind, I have tumbled it on the tide._" Until finally, her eyes fell upon Rollo who had grown bewitched, body and soul by this striking woman. "_I have lifted it as its sound grew dim, swallowed it as it died. You may row the boat forever, believing you are free. You cannot cross the water-_" their eyes never left each other, "_you can only row to me._" As her song ended a volcanic applause sounded from the Vikings, the memory of home heavy in their hearts. When the last beautiful note trailed off into the wind so did Rollo's gape, having turned away in embarrassment his unwashed body scorched like hell fire from under the weight of his clothes. What was this woman doing to him?

"I do not think any one can argue," Lagertha shouted over the cheering, "your sister carries a much better tune than you, Floki!" The roll of joy continued to sweep through the company of Vikings while drinks met welcoming lips and rhythmic dancing dizzied every man into a stupor.

The haze and heat had twisted the red ring of the moon even more viciously around the beautiful glowing sphere as it plummeted deeper into the night. The crew showed no signs of slowing their revelries by the time Frigga removed herself from the crowd. She strode undaunted through the silver light that threw her long shadow over empty houses as she passed. Rollo had noticed Frigga quietly excuse herself from the circle and disappear towards the small inlet of the river where the others had bathed just past the nearest homes. He had only been half listening to Erik when he threw down the tinder he was playing with and inconspicuously followed her. The sound of the large, rowdy group of Vikings carried along the wind though it seemed of no consequence to anyone.

Passing into the meager tree line that traced the river's edge, Rollo was sure Frigga had vanished like the dark bird she was when he did not see her standing near the inlet. The black water churned idly around and around like a whirlpool, slowly pulling in new water while pushing out the old. Blinking away the dizzying sight Rollo pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes trying to rub away the lethargy. Upon opening them he discovered Frigga standing nude, waste deep in the pool before him, her black hair hung over her angular shoulder and down between her breasts. The water twisted around her slender waist and wrists while the moon cast shadows all along her body.

"Do you know the story of Candaules and Gyges?" She asked unmoving.

Confused, Rollo struggled to comprehend the scene laid before him, his shoulder stung and the pleasure the mead once brought was now turning into a fearsome headache. Steadying his breath, he replied, "I do not." With a smile Frigga extended her hand to him letting the water slash down around her.

"Maybe someday I will tell it to you." Rollo knew he could take this woman at will as he had so many others through threat and force but something stuck him about her, Frigga's presence was so remarkable at times he felt he would break her with a simple touch. "Come." He heard her say from the water. Before Rollo could stop himself, he was removing his clothes one by one, trying to summon the same courage Frigga had to stand before another completely naked without trepidation. Feeling vulnerable for the first time in his life, Rollo's terrified heart slammed heavy against the inside of his chest as he took his first exposed steps into the blackness.

Wading in to the river Rollo felt the mud squished beneath his bare feet as the water rose higher up his legs and passed his waist. The cool shock purged whatever headache had formed and the smell of cinnamon made stronger by the water had eased his trembling nerves. The moment Rollo stood before Frigga, their toes nearly touching, he was able to see just how intricate her black tattoos really were, they snaked around the right side of her body, up her shoulder and along her collarbone. The moonlight bounced off the water and glistened over their exposed beings.

Frigga examined the broad, barrel chested man; each mark on his skin, whether from ink or from battle, was part of his story – just like hers. His face was still hard and hesitant though his brow and jaw were relaxed and his mouth was slightly agape. Frigga's eyes traveled to the shoulder she had become so accustomed to only to find his wound beginning to turn, his sweat had started to disintegrate the stitches. Rollo glanced down to his arm then back to Frigga though she was still transfixed on his wound. Frigga inched closer to the eldest Lothbrok, looking into his eyes and placing her right palm over his shoulder. Under the trickling of cool water over his chest her hand burned with a heat he had never felt before, he wanted to pull away but his eyes were lost in hers. Finally, he was able to break away when he noticed one of the tattoos that snaked along her collar had twisted around and grown up the back of her neck. Rollo's eyes widened in disbelief, thinking the moon was playing tricks on them when she removed her hand from his wound and in its place a delicate, black tattoo remained.

"Whether for ourselves or for others," Frigga said tracing the design with her fingertip, "every choice we make leaves its mark, Rollo." Rollo brought up his hand to touch the design this woman had marked him with, it was still warm beneath his fingers but the sting of his injury had vanished. This was the first time she had called him by his name and he had never heard something so familiar sound so foreign.

The morning brought with it tired bodies and heavy minds, alas the company could not pause any longer and began packing their gear for the remaining journey. Floki stood along side his sister who, like others, was readying one of the town's horses with supplies to take with them; Erik and Athelstan prepared a few others for Ragnar, Lagertha and Rollo to ride. Rollo had not been seen all morning, thought to have fallen into a drunken sleep beside the river or even fallen in. Though like a phantom Rollo reappeared just as the company set to depart, his face was clean, his beard tidied and his hair was combed neatly back into a ponytail. Rollo approached the fences where his brother and sister-in-law waited with confused expressions and mounted his horse.

"Yes?" Rollo grumbled at Ragnar. The young Lothbrok fought the impending grin and quickly shook his head before straddling his own steed.

A storm could be seen looming in from the west when they pushed past the cliffs and along the river's edge, the forest grew up around them. Half of the day had gone when the sky broke and torrents fell in sheets over the earth. The Viking Company could hear the river grow louder to their left as the rain pummeled everything though they could no longer see it through the trees. The needles and leaves that littered the forest floor made each step slippery and uncertain, the blankets of water were almost blinding turning their progress into a crawl. Frigga could feel her legs growing weary with every step that sunk a little more into the soft soil. Many of the crew took their fare share of falls, covering themselves head to toe in the brown sludge, Frigga included though they pressed on. Taking rest beneath the shelter of fallen oaks, Frigga pulled gently on her brother's sleeve as she looked at the sky.

"Would you say we are still on course?" she asked. Floki looked to the sky with his sister, the clouds above them traveled from right to left as they had been throughout the journey though now they passed almost straight overhead. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the mud to Ragnar, Lagertha and Rollo who stood with their horses. Floki repeated the motion his sister had done and directed Ragnar's eyes to the sky.

"The river has pushed us too far west, my friend." Floki said. Ragnar wiped the dripping water from his brow in a wash of frustration after noticing the sky's movements. "We must cross back over." These were the exact words the young Lothbrok did not want to hear, the current the rain had created was nothing short of perilous. He could see his men were fatigued and by the time they reached the river again the night would be upon them. Catching their breath once more, the order was given to forge their way back east and prepare to cross the river.

From atop his horse Rollo could see Frigga struggling to continually pull her feet from the mud; this usually graceful, unfaultable creature finally appeared human. He slid from the back of his steed and trudged to her side.

"Here," Rollo said holding out the reins to her.

"I do not need charity, thank you," she said obstinately though her thighs were on fire.

"Do not be foolish, you will need your strength to forge the river." Again shaking the reigns at her.

"I will manage," she answered without looking at him.

"Not very Chieftess-like to tramp through the mud."

"You forget, I have also been called a ship builder's sister, a Nióingr and Sigyn," she provoked finally turning to him. Rollo gritted his teeth and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Stubborn woman." He growled close to her ear before mounting his horse again.

Erik was handed a length of rope, being the largest and strongest he was given the honor of crossing the surge first and tying off the rope so the others could follow. Wrapping the rope around his wrist, Erik waded into the water that nearly reached waist height, his mighty legs pushing him forward across the river's span. With the rope anchored firmly around a large pine the horses were sent across next, the water only just reaching below their shoulders each made it safely across with all cargo intact. The sun was sinking over the trees behind them prompting an ever quicker coarse of action, the men and women one by one took hold of the rope and began their trek across the raging river.

The water pushed at their sides and weaved through their exhausted legs forcing their ribs into the taut rope as they crossed. Frigga reached hand over hand trying to ignore the pressure in her side; each terrifying step through the water was magnified by the increasing lack of daylight. The moment was almost too quick for Frigga to think, the moment her hands slipped from the wet rope and she felt her feet pulled from under her by the current. The black water swallowed her fiercely, shoving water into her throat for an agonizing moment until a massive force caught her by the wrist and pulled her up. Rollo's colossal grip was nothing short of painful but was undoubtedly instinct when he pulled her back above the waterline. Tucking her under his arm the company made their way across the rest of the river. Rollo pulled Frigga by her bicep up the slippery bank and practically threw her to the ground with a thud.

"Ouch!" She yelped when her back slammed against the earth.

"Quiet!" he snipped back at her while their fellow Vikings looked on in unease. Rollo looked up to them before angrily pulling off his heavy cloak and throwing it to the ground.

"Rollo," Ragnar called to deaf ears. Rollo slicked back his loose hair, reached for Frigga once again yanking her from the mud and dragged her into the wood.

"Release me right now!" she yelled at him but his grasp didn't loosen. Once they were a distance away Rollo pushed her under the shelter of a thick pine out of the rain.

"What an unconscionable burden you are." He growled at her.

"You insufferable man," Frigga rose to her feet, "I have spent half this journey nursing your idiocy, next time I will just let your arm rot and fall off."

"I knew you the first moment I met you-"

"You know nothing about me or my brother for that matter, you treat him like scum!"

"It appeared to me you and your sister do not treat him any better. The only reason we are in this mess is through your sisters self-indulgence." He stepped closer to her as lightning clapped.

"_My_ sister? It seems to me your brother's greed is what brought you here and correct me if I am wrong but you did not seem burdened last night." Frigga snapped following his advance closer; their voices rose over the rain.

"Your stubbornness nearly-"

"Nearly what, cost me my life? The only reason you need me here is to lead you to Fragarach, now what does saving me say about your intentions?"

"I should have let you been swept away!" He yelled into her face

"You know where Fragarach is so why didn't you!" Frigga shouted matching his volume, their faces inches apart. She was almost certain his hand would fly at any moment but it never did. Rollo's eyes softened for an instant when he looked down to the rain dripping from her lips. Something drew him towards this infuriating woman; he wanted to take her right there in the rain except his breath was caught in his throat. Frigga's heart shook in her chest as thunder boomed overhead causing Rollo to pull himself from her spell. Rollo pulled the collar of his shirt aside revealing the black mark she had left on his shoulder, rain dripped over his strong form and through his hair.

"We are even now," he sighed.

"You were never indebted," she answered dolefully. Rollo was afraid to look into her eyes once more for fear she was telling the truth. That someone would help him for the sake of sincere kindness without wanting anything in return. This unfathomable thought caused him to turn from her and walk away.

The storm above had finally passed when the Vikings pitched their camp on the east side of the bank. The water had risen more than half way up the steep incline by the time they laid their clothes out to dry. Brooding next to his brother, Rollo watched Frigga from across the smothered campfire as she gathered two bowls of nettle soup and give one to her brother. Floki sat on a log a distance away from the rest of the group where the horses were tied when his sister took her place next to him. Several silent moments passed after they finished their food.

"Do you remember the pony we had in Oslo?" She asked, "She was the most brilliant creature..."

"Please stop."

"Excuse me?"

"You expect me to sit and reminisce with you after all this time. I do not know you, stop trying to know me, girl."

"That is enough, you may not speak to me that way."

"I loved my people with every ounce of compassion I could give, I would have led them as the rightful heir now simply looking upon you sickens me to know that I could not save them from Freydis's reign."

"Our people are happy and content-"

"She has beguiled them, do not thing me a fool sister."

"I can not change what has happened or why you left-"

"Left! Left?" He shot to his feet, "I – WAS - EXILED!" he screamed at her. "Your beloved sister turned me out of my own home and into the wilderness. Left?" He paced back and forth "She blames me for mother and father's death, you knew this and you did nothing to stop her!" he shoved a finger in her face. The rest of the group couldn't help overhearing.

"I was only fifteen!"

"I was ten years old and you let her turn me away. I am of just as noble birth as you and now you see what I have become..."

"Oh stop, stop this act, this portrayal of a mad man that you so cleverly trick everyone else with." Frigga jumped to her feet pointing to the men behind them.

"Act! Do you have any idea what sixteen years alone in the wilderness can do to a man?" Floki stooped down closer to her. "You know nothing!" Frigga straightened tall until their noses were practically touching. "I loved them _and you_ more than you could ever imagine, damn you for abandoning me when I needed you most."

**A/N: #ohrollo. #poorfloki**

**I will try to have the chapter 10 up by next Monday but it's giving me some resistance. **


	10. Fragarach

Chapter X-

Floki turned over onto his side trying to shut out the lingering chatter of the night. His shoulder sunk ever so slightly into the soft soil as he crossed his arms over his chest and squeezed his eyes even more tightly. He was unsure when he drifted off but what met him was the horrendous hell he thought he left behind. "Floki," he heard his father's deep voice before he saw him. Blinking his eyes through the blinding smoke Floki could see his father gripping his hand through the rungs of the unmovable door. Young Floki futilely kicked and charged the door over and over only stirring more flames within the room. The deafening roar of the growing inferno around him choked the sound of his pleading screams, his tears made the ashes run in streaks over his young cheeks. "Do not cry." The king's grip tightened around his son's small hand. "Protect our people and know you are mine." the King managed to say before burning timbers above crashed down between them. The dream felt like a blink of an eye though when Floki awoke the sun had begun to rise as well, throwing its glow all around them. He turned onto his back, his eyes wet with sorrow only to see Frigga crouched down beside him.

"You are mine," she said startling him, "that is what he said to you, is it not?" Frigga was trembling and her eyes were red with welling tears. "I should have never forsaken you, you are my brother. I love you and I am truly sorry." He could see the make up was streaked down his sister's cheeks. "You are mine." Had she been there with him in his dream? Floki bit back the emotion in his eyes and laid his hand upon his sisters without a word.

The fifth day had arrived and with the Viking's movements back on course it felt as if the worse was behind them, the sleeping woman would show herself within the day. The ground was still soft from the night's rain but the shimmer the morning sun cast over its due was a splendor to behold. Frigga and Floki walked together side by side quietly for most of the day's journey, nevertheless there was a new sense of comradery between them. The crew noticed the uncanny family resemblance between the brother and sister, Frigga's makeup was still streaked down her cheeks and she now dawned the same grin as Floki. However Frigga's attention was set upon Rollo, she could not help but wonder if he would have embraced her the night before. She imagined it to be a hungry and greedy kiss, a _thing_ he was simply able to take. Little did she know it was solely a passion he wanted to give_. _

"Are we close, Chieftess?" Ragnar asked jolting Frigga from her thoughts.

"Indeed."

"How will we find our way into the mountain?"

"This I do not know, I suppose we will discover that once we get there."

"If there _is_ a way in." Athelstan instigated lightheartedly, prompting a kick from Ragnar from atop his horse.

"They call you priest, do they not? One of Christian faith?" she called back to him.

"I was once." Athelstan smiled.

"Trust that which you can not see. I believe this is what you call faith," he did not answer, "have faith priest."

"I think everyone knows I lost my faith a long time ago, Chieftess." He answered stirring laughter from the crew.

The Vikings drove further east through the woods with the sound of the river dissolving behind them; each man and woman had a sense their search was nearing its end. The noon sun had not reached the middle of the sky before the heat mixed with the stifling humidity all around them. Frigga had been concentrating on the tickle the bead of sweat made as it dripped down her chest when she heard a jingle beside her. Rollo walked next to her holding out his horse's reigns once again; Frigga's efforts to hold back the grateful smile were in vain by the time she took the leads from his hands.

As the Vikings approached a clearing in the distance they could tell they had climbed to some elevation and were now on top a mount. In the silent moment standing at the edge of this precipice their faces were swept with astonishment, there she was – just as Frigga had told them. Off in the distance, about half a day's walk laid the Sleeping Woman, the clear bright day made the white water glisten like a silken blanket around her. The Lothbroks looked to each other with beaming grins, was there a possibility Fragarach was somewhere within this hillside?

"You have done it," Ragnar said in awe.

"Oh," Frigga shifted uneasily in her saddle, "do not thank me yet." The Chieftess sighed hesitantly. Frigga forced a slight smile when Rollo turned his gaze to her; he returned the grin and stroked the coarse hairs of her horse's snout.

The mount stretched higher and higher above them as they journeyed closer through the open terrain speckled with late summer trees. The light sound of water lapping against the shore was just within earshot and with it came the smell of ripe plums. The fruit's aroma made the men dizzy with excitement; this rare purple charm was now smeared across hungry faces. They had finally reached the ribbon of crystal water encircling the Sleeping Woman.

"Can we?" Floki asked excitedly, the plum juice still dripping down his neck.

"I am sorry my friend," Ragnar answered, "there will be time for play when we finish this." Frigga breathed out a sigh of astonishment at the beautiful mount before she noticed Rollo appear beside her horse. Upon looking down at him it was the first time she noticed his handsome smile, without a word he held out a plum and gave it to her. "Well Chieftess?" Still slightly in awe, Frigga rolled the swollen plum around in her hand before looking to Ragnar on her other side.

"Follow the water," she replied.

The twist of water was slow and calm unlike the torrent they crossed the night before, as if it was untouched by the storm. The Vikings followed its current up and around to the "head" picking more fruit as they went. Each pleasant breeze brought with it the renewed sense of fortitude and poise to the small group of Scandinavian warriors. The cavern was there, right in front of them, neither Ragnar nor Frigga ever believed they would actually witness the beginning of the end.

"Will we find it in that labyrinth?" Athelstan asked with his hands on his hips. The shaft of the cavern was surprisingly easy to locate which made the company curious if they were not the first to pursue Fragarach.

"We will not know that until we try." Frigga answered. Rollo looked to his brother after hearing the familiar statement that Floki once made. The horses were tied outside while one by one each man and woman stepped into the embrace of the Sleeping Woman. The darkness quickly closed in only a few yards into the chute, with raised torches Ragnar held point at the head of the company with Rollo closely behind. The remaining Vikings were more than a few steps behind, following the twisting tunnel deeper into the darkness. It was a unified suspicion that the company must have reached the center of the mountain by this time. The space around them expanded like a funnel until they were stooped within a small alcove a few inches too low for most to stand upright, at the other side of the chamber two tunnels diverged in separate directions.

"Well?" Rollo looked to Frigga.

"Why do you presume I have all the answers," she sighed.

"Most women think they do." Athelstan quipped peering over Rollo's shoulder.

"You have been with my brother too long." Frigga said to the priest trying to hide her smile. The company separated into two parties, one led by Ragnar the other by Rollo. The low ceiling resulted in minor head collisions for most of the men whose frustrated groans could be heard through the blackness. Frigga watched Rollo's silhouette in front of her duck and squeeze through the mountain's rock formations with surprising ease for his size. Rollo wriggled through the small crag inhibiting their path while maneuvering the torch out of the way; on the other side he reached back for Frigga's hand. Frigga let her fingers wrap around Rollo's and watched as her hand disappeared within his. Once she was on the other side Rollo's grasp did not loosen as they continued to drive further into the mountain.

Alarmingly, a sharp whistle shot through the soundless tunnel, bouncing off every pitch and crevice until it echoed past Rollo's assembly and vanished down into the blackness before them. The company remained motionless until another shrill note weaved through from behind causing Frigga's hand to drop from Rollo's and confirmed their decision to journey back to the low, open chamber.

The Viking's cumulative silence was magnified by the darkness that hung around them; astonished expressions had swept over every face. The small cavern could barely occupy the entire group as the last remaining members, including Rollo and Frigga, joined the cluster. From the center of the company, Ragnar slowly pressed past his men toward Frigga at the outside of the circle, a funny little smile on his lips. For an odd reason Frigga's attention was on the way he was breathing out of the side of his mouth instead of what was laying in his hands.

"You have done it," Rollo sighed humbly, though it was unclear whether he was speaking to his brother or to the Chieftess. Ragnar lifted the unwrapped object toward Frigga and reverently lowered his gaze. Frigga's hand involuntarily rose to touch the cold steal for she thought her eyes were deceiving her. Hesitation over took Frigga before her fingers could fall upon the naked prize, she gently replaced the cloth wrappings that once concealed the magnificent sword and quietly accepted the offering from Ragnar. As hard as she tried she was unable to hold back the smile that stretched from ear to ear while she quietly cradled the sword in her arms like a newborn child.

"And your promised compensation?" Frigga asked.

"I hope the boats can manage the load." Athelstan laughed. "It looks like we will be feasting at Erik's new home when we return." This stirred the company into hollering revelries.

"Well Chieftess," Rollo sighed placing his hands on her arms, the shouting and cheering was deafening within the small cavern. "I believe it is time for a celebration!" Rollo shouted happily pulling Frigga under his arm as the noise grew around them.

The fresh evening at the base of the mountain swirled with laughter and joy, the Vikings would finally be able to return home with every man's pockets brimmed with treasures. All were up and about in good spirits; the terrifying hell they first encountered had turned into a lush, vibrant, magical wilderness. The music from Floki's bone whistle sweetened the purple night air while the tribal drumming was matched with bare feet the pounded the Earth sending clouds of dust into the sky.

Rollo lounged beside their ship builder and watched his friends dance and spin around the fire like wild men. He watched the women's elegant feet covered in the red Irlandian dirt; move in graceful, magnetic rhythms to the music. Until he finally noticed Frigga's eyes upon him as she spun and moved around the fire like a creature he had never seen before.

"Dance with her," Ragnar said. Before Rollo was given the opportunity to answer Ragnar rose from his position to join Lagertha and Athelstan in their merriments. Rollo scoffed with a smile when he entertained the arousing thought though before he knew it Frigga had approached him and knelt at his feet. Rollo sat up in attention and realized she was unfastening the ties of his boots; Frigga had not broken his stair when she removed his shoes. The cool ground under his bare feet was an unquestionable pleasure and the burning touch of her hand in his when he rose from his spot was almost euphoric when they joined the "dance floor" together. Rollo was unsure how he came to stand amongst the writhing, dizzying movements of his fellow Viking's, they stirred like wild men through the night. Frigga's petite hand gently squeezed Rollo's when she began to sway to a fro with the sounds of the drums, he watched as her pointed toes danced across the ground and her free arm floated through the air like a feather in the wind. Rollo was entranced by the way Frigga's body looked in the firelight and unaware his rhythms began matching hers. Rollo let his body move closer to Frigga's, the music growing louder in their ears, his hand loosed from hers and traced the skin up her arm and to the nape of her neck. The two danced together encircled by the glowing dust and pulse of the night, their hands trailing all over one another with every step and pace. Their hair stuck to their necks through the sweat and dirt covering their skin, the heat between them was undeniable. Suddenly Rollo caught the unfamiliar sound of his own laughter mixing with Frigga's as they spun faster and faster around the blazing fire. The sight of Frigga's glistening skin and the low neckline of her tunic were too much for Rollo to handle any longer. He pulled Frigga in and pushed the wet strands of hair from her face, tangling his fingers in the long locks he cupped her face with his large hands and let his lips find hers. The taste of salt and grit from the Earth vanished within the soft fullness of her mouth as they let their tongues dance on one another while sucking in the thick air of the night with every kiss.

**Ok, before people say 'Finding Fragarach was too easy' let me remind you this FF is focused on the relationships between the characters throughout the journey not just the destination. **


	11. The Answerer

**Holy cow- Sorry this chapter took a while to finish, September was a busy month. Thanks for being patient everyone.**

Chapter XI- The Answerer

Every nerve under Frigga's skin was electrified; she was uncertain whether it was the drums or her heart that was causing the slamming sensation within her chest. She pushed herself from Rollo's strong hold and met his cheek forcibly with her open right hand. As was intended, her aggressive smack only further roused Rollo who grabbed her body more powerfully. She let the wet skin of her arms slide over his taut shoulders as she hooked them around his neck, his hands playfully pulling at her hair. Rollo's thick beard brushed heavily over her cheeks with each fervent kiss sending waves of excitement through her body. Frigga could feel every angle and pitch of Rollo's torso as their gasping frames melded together, unsure if her feet were still even touching the ground. The festivities around them showed no signs of slowing as the moment between them drifted deeper into a title wave of passion.

"Go to the cavern, _now,_" Frigga ordered with a grin. Rollo speedily made his way past his fellow men, grabbing a torch along the way before entering the abyss of the mountain. Frigga remained by the fire for a moment attempting to catch her breath and to stop her legs from trembling. She knew what kind of man Rollo Lothbrok was and who he would become, what she did not foresee was his capacity for tenderness until now. Unknowingly Frigga's eyes fell to the bundled sword that lay beside the rest of her belongings, her mind began to race as she placed one foot in front of the other. Entering into the darkness Frigga let the sword's wrappings fall to the floor like a distant memory and for the first time felt the slender hilt of Fragarach.

Frigga traced the cold stone wall with her hand as she slowly plunged deeper into the tunnel. She could see the glow of flickering light in the cavern ahead and her heart wrenched with excitement at the thought of Rollo's lips on hers, but there was something she had to do. The cavern was just as it had been before though now it was empty and Rollo was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly a force from behind thrust her into the light and pinned her to the wall; Rollo's warm body pressed against hers almost robbing her of the breath in her lungs. His kisses were unexpectedly sugary and sweet from the plums, a nectar Frigga never wanted to stop tasting. Rollo suddenly paused at the touch of cold steel against his throat.

"Frigga?" He whispered over his lips without opening his eyes. He had never said her name before and now she wished he hadn't.

"I want to know," she began, "if the legend is true." Rollo slowly opened his eyes absorbing Frigga's every detail.

"No, you want to know if I love you," he corrected sternly. "Frigga you are the most aggravating, the most infuriating know-it-all I have ever met. You are too beautiful for your own good and everything within me tells me to be rid of you," he snarled pushing the blade away from his neck and started to pace, "but you do not need to place Fragarach to my throat to know how I feel." His voice was on the brink of rage. "My true feelings are shown to no one, not even to my own brother! Why do you think I only show them to you?" Frigga's eyes were red and welling by the time Rollo returned to stand before her, both of his hands pressed to either side of the wall beside her head. "Because apart from being completely maddening I find you to be the most stunning, thrilling, bewitching woman I have ever met." Rollo's face was so close to Frigga's she could feel the humming vibrations within his softened voice. "So no, I am not in love because I do not know what that is like, but whatever I am feeling… I can guarantee it is countless times greater than love." Frigga could feel her chest heaving for the breath Rollo stole from her when he ripped the sword from her fingers. "Now, you did not need Fragarach to tell you that, did you?" Rollo let the sword fall to the ground beside them and once again took Frigga into his arms. The flickering orange glow within the cavern was the only cover that cloaked the unfolding love affair between the Chieftess and Rollo Lothbrok that night.

Frigga laid atop the pile of clothes that were strewn over the rock floor as they each regained their breath and listened to the revelries outside dissolve into silence. Rollo traced the black tattoos along Frigga's side with his finger, up her thigh, to her ribs and chest then to her neck. He looked up to meet her eyes, a quiet query behind his gaze.

"Some _gifts_ are bestowed upon us without our permission." Was all she said before they both drifted into the soundest sleep they could remember.

"Are you delighted to be returning to your homeland," Frigga asked Rollo the following morning as they dressed.

"Indeed, but it will not be long before we set sail once more." He smiled excited at the thought of conquering new lands. "Oslo will be pleased to have its Chieftess returned." Rollo finished fastening his trousers and picked Fragarach up from where he dropped it the night before. The steel was light and airy in his hand, he had never before held such a magnificent work of art and immediately felt something shift within him.

"What are you doing?" Frigga asked. "Give that to me," she smiled advancing for the sword.

"Na, uh, uh." Rollo grinned raising it to chest height. "Lets see if the stories are true." He walked closer to her, a funny smile shown from under his beard. Frigga anxiously stood where she stopped hoping whatever followed would be quick and painless. "If they are you will not be able to lie to me." Rollo gently let the blade lie upon Frigga's bare shoulder and tenderly touch the side of her neck. "Did I satisfy you?"

"You _did_."

"Do you find me barbaric?"

"I did," her own answer surprised her.

"Did I satisfy you?"

"You _did_."

"Are you a sorceress, Frigga?"

"No, sorceresses make magic I just… have it within me."

"Why did you banish your own brother?" Frigga was alarmed by the dark turn of question.

"Freydis wanted the crown for herself, she blames Floki for our parents death." Astonishingly Frigga felt Fragarach growing heavier on her shoulder. "I truly believe now that she was the cause of their death." Rollo was unsure why his blood began to grow warm; possibly it was the thought of his own brother abandoning him or that this unearthly creature had that cruelty inside her. He stepped closer to the Chieftess with the sword still at her neck

"Why did you come?" He growled. Rollo felt as if he had asked this question a dozen times since they left Oslo and now he would finally have his answer. Frigga's eyelids began to flutter trying to hold back the mounding emotion.

"Rollo, please do not make me answer that." She whimpered. Rollo's eyebrows stitched together in further confusion, his face again turning to the hardened warrior she first met.

"Why- did- you- come?" he repeated.

"I…" before Frigga's mind could catch up with her mouth her lips had already begun to move, her voice trembling and the weight of the sword growing heavier. "For the sword." Rollo placed his free hand to the other side of Frigga's neck.

"But not for your sister?"

"No."

"For whom?"

"The Farmansgården, the merchant." Frigga could feel the air catching in her throat as Rollo's grip tightened over her neck.

"Why!"

"To be rid of Freydis." Frigga whimpered. Rollo's patience was at its end and before he knew it his arm had forced Frigga to the ground with the sword still at her neck.

"Frigga!" he shouted with burning eyes. This was her dream the first night on Irlandia! "Stop giving me shards and fragments, if you care for me at all you will tell me the whole truth!"

"The home you saw me exiting at the edge of the wood while you were in Oslo, that is the house of the Farmansgården." Frigga attempted to steady her voice to no avail. "I would get Fragarach and he would get all the treasures you and your men attained on our quest. I would leave Oslo, command my own vessel and be free of my sister's rule forever." Rollo burst with a sudden shout pacing to the other end of the cavern as Frigga got to her feet. "But now everything has changed, Rollo," she tried to explain, "You and your men keep everything and we can destroy Fragarach! Leaving Freydis with nothing!" Rollo fumed near the entrance tunnel with his back to Frigga afraid that if he faced her she'd see the true extent of his pain. "Rollo, you were right, you do not need Fragarach to know my feelings for you." Frigga stepped closer to him though her every fiber was on high alert.

"No." he grumbled to the wall. "We made a deal and you betrayed… all of us." If Frigga didn't know any better she would have thought she heard his voice waver. Rollo turned to face the Chieftess. "I genuinely thought you would be the first person… the first person to _care,_ to be truthful with me without their own scheme."

"Rollo I _do_-"

"Stop." He brought his hand to his face not knowing what else to do. "You fooled… _everyone." _His rage had turned into blinding grief as he tried to speak between each stolen breath. "Does your heart not break to know you have failed your brother a second time? I do not how to keep you from… from." He was sucking on the inside of his cheek. "The punishment of treason… is death." Rollo's eyes flickered back and forth between Frigga's which were now spilling over with tears.

Rollo knew he had not always made the best decisions in the past; he neither acknowledged his conscience nor always adhered to his moral compass though the stabbing pain of deceit was something he could not ignore. His feet drove him from the cave with a sailing swiftness though his legs and body felt heavier than the earth itself. With Fragarach still clutched in his hand Rollo flew to his brother's side leaving Frigga to stand alone within the mouth of the cave.

"I must speak with you," Rollo grimaced.

"We are readying to leave."

"Now!" Rollo urged. Frigga watched through red eyes as Rollo grabbed his younger brother by the wrist and dragged him away from the rest of the company. Stifling back the tears Frigga was met by Ragnar's glare after moments of Rollo's briefing, even from a distance she could see the vein under his eye pulsing with rage making his eyes turn an even more glorious shade blue. The brothers were unaware Floki was within earshot and had already risen to his feet and advanced towards his sister. Frigga retreated back into the darkness but it was too late, Floki was upon her in an instant before she was more than five feet into the cave.

"Floki, I…"

"Don't you dare! You do not even deserve to justify yourself to me." Frigga had never seen her brother like this, the jovial imp had vanished and what remained was the raw, unadulterated man that merely shared her life's blood. "I blame myself, your treachery and conceit and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize you could never be my sister." Frigga's lips were sewn shut as Floki pressed his face close to hers. "You are just like _her_ and I hope she casts you aside just as she did to me, so then…then you will know the pain, the loneliness and the madness that follows." Floki then vanished back into the light leaving his hot breath upon her skin.

"You know what must be done." Ragnar said through his teeth. Rollo sighed and looked to the pebbles on the ground, pushing them this way and that with his foot. "What would _you_ suggest? Leave her here?"

"Throw her back to Freydis," Floki interjected, his pace was quick and hard as he charged passed the brothers. "That will be punishment enough."

Not a moment was spared when the Vikings returned to the northern shore; the ships' hulls were filled swiftly and silently before the sun sank below the horizon. The bow crashed and jutted angrily against the water as the keel cut its way from the cove to the open North Sea. Its belly was full of Irlandian treasure and its sails bulged with a violent wind that pushed them eastward.

Even trough the dark Frigga's face could be seen streaked with salt and tears that smeared dark lines down her cheeks. Seated at the bow of the ship where she once perched imperially she now withdrew as a captive. Her chest heaved and trembled as the ship rose and fell, the memories of that last several days journey back to the coast from the Sleeping Woman turned her stomach. Though Frigga was insistent she would not try and escape, the Scandinavian men in misery bound her wrists with a cord and attached it to one of the packhorses. Frigga's feet were bruised and swollen by the third day of constant travel with only two or three hours of intermittent sleep each night.

Frigga no longer waited for Rollo's eyes to meet hers, her head hung to the side of her raised arms that were attached to the bow by the chord. Frigga braved the endured the harsh weather for days with little food and sporadic privileges to relieve her bowels. From within the shelter of the ship's cloth cover the men examined the treasures that lined the hull but did not dare speak. On this third night the salty black waves crashed and sprayed over the bow furiously baptizing Frigga in a flood of sea. Her hair stuck to her sunken cheeks but she neither stirred nor spoke as the ship bucked and rolled. Rollo had refused to meet Frigga's gaze the entire journey from the Sleeping Woman to the ship though now his dark green eyes blazed upon her under cover of the darkness. The purple wind whipped and bit at Frigga's broken frame twisting her long hair into wet knots and nipping small holes into her tunic. From his seat Rollo turned to the stern where Floki too braved the elements as he steered his creation threw the squall, his face was a luminescent grey like a shallow river rock through the darkness.

Frigga would not have known someone was standing before her if her bloodshot eyes had not been focused on the wooden plank at her knees. The soundless approach of two boots before her came as a start for no one spoke or looked at her in four days. Her red eyes swollen with salt spray traveled up the figure to find Rollo's face dripping with seawater before he crouched down in front of her.

"For your brother's sake, I hope you consider yourself lucky. For all you will have to endure is the sorrow and anguish of knowing your deceit and the pain you have caused every one of these men including myself," he said with an unsteady harshness. "Like the unearthly creature you are I hope that you feel every stab of grief a hundred times greater than they and know what I still feel." Rollo's laced fingers gripped tightly whitening his knuckles as he spoke. From behind him Ragnar was seated close and could faintly over hear the conversation.

"Please know," Frigga began. Rollo pulled his eyes from her face and bit the inside of his cheek. The sweet sound of her voice that he had grown so fond of now ripped through him like a blade. "I am not speaking to you through mortal flesh. It is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at Odin's feet equal. As we are! I think you to be a great man as do your friends and you have no idea the legend you shall become."

"I care for _myself_. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself."

"If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would still not be without the knowledge that you are loved." Rollo took a moment to watch the trickles of water stream down Frigga's face, she was right- she had been the first person besides the Lothbroks to show him true kindness, true unconditional love. This woman still held him in her heart though he had her bound and shamed, prostrated at the bow of their mighty ship like a savage. Rollo said nothing in reply but the sound of his stone heart breaking was so deafening even Ragnar could hear.

At the stern of the ship Floki refused to sleep or rest running his vessel at full sail back to the Scandinavian coast. The morning dawn brought with it the gray hills of their homeland though this majestic sight did nothing to ease Floki's heartache. The hillsides climbed higher and higher beside the Vikings as they entered Oslo's inlet, the morning haze still trapped between the peeks. When the town's dock was in sight Floki hopped down from his perch at the steer board and walked unforgivingly up the hull. Frigga's head still hung in exhaustion and humiliation as he approached her removing his dagger from its sheath. Frigga's muscles and joints screamed as her brother yanked her to her feet. Some of the men, including Rollo, had involuntarily risen to their feet on guard. Floki's long fingers gripped her aching arms before slicing the rope into tatters with his knife freeing her raw wrists.

"May Freydis and Odin have mercy on you," Floki said before leading her to the edge of the boat. Frigga was able to turn to her brother one last time.

"You are mine and I am truly sorry." She was able to say before Floki cast her over board into the gentle waves leaving her to swim to shore.


	12. LETTER TO READERS

Hello Readers!

I wish I didn't have to put this up but I feel I need to apologize NOW for the delay. There are still more chapters to come, I had spilled a "beverage" on my computer and had to get it fixed then traveled home for a week to see my family. BUT NOW IM BACK. Lets hope I can crank this chapter out by the end of the week.

Love you all.

SKA Birch


End file.
